Grave Lord Arlon's Revengathon
by Samuel Keller
Summary: After a long vacation of relaxation, the newest generation of Vault Hunters have now been dragged into a crusade that will shake the galaxy to its core! Second DLC for Vault Hunters Wanted (after Mr. Vangorium's Wonder Gunporium) with even more characters and a slightly improved plot!
1. Chapter 1: Transformers

**The following is a recorded broadcast with evidence of tampering. This tampering was recorded during regular viewing hours by an unknown hacking source. The Crimson Raider Distribution Company holds no legal ownership of any of the materials present in this recording and is only using this as part of this report.**

* * *

_Here for your viewing entertainment, Hyperion Entertainment presents:_

_Transformers 8.97_

_Directed by: Mel Bay_

_Screenplay by: Mel Bay_

_Stunts by: Mel Bay_

_Explosions by: Mel Bay_

_Acting by: Mia Lebough and Reagan Foxx_

* * *

_Mia Lebough woke up and yawned, grunting lowly in a fairly masculine demeanor. Her car, a yellow Pinto, was outside. Don't tell anyone, but it was secretly a giant transforming robot that wasn't that related to the original source material the idea was borrowed from. _

"_Oh man, I really hope Reagan doesn't leave me," she murmured rubbing her head. "Of course if he does, we'll just justify it in-story as a tragic break-up instead of legal action taken by the actor playing him…I mean…uh…I think I'll have Cocoa Puffs today."_

_She…_

_**ERROR. TRANSMISSION INTERRUPTING. PLEASE WAIT FOR…**_

"_**Pitiful humans, my name is Grave Lord Arlon. I have intercepted your ECHOnet broadcasts to relay a message to all of you. I require your assistance in dealing with hostiles in my home…"**_

_**ERROR. TRANSMISSION RETURNING…**_

_Reagan Foxx whipped his girlish hair to the side, fanning himself narcissistically with his hand. "I can't do this anymore! People are just going to these movies for my body! I…"_

_**ERROR. TRANSMISSION INTERUPTING. PLEASE WAIT FOR…**_

"_**Alright, fuck it, never mind. I need help and I'm paying cash. The planet is called Sheol. ECHO the damn thing why don't ya. And if you think this is a stupid job, I want you to know what I'm paying. A…"**_

_**ERROR. TRANSMISSION RETURNING…**_

_Mia Lebough shook her head, hanging it lowly in melodramatic despair. "Oh this sucks! Reagan left me due to the lawsuit against our director, I mean…because I wasn't that great of a girlfriend! This sucks so much!"_

_She…_

_**ERROR. TRANSMISSION INTERUPTING. PLEASE WAIT FOR…**_

"_**Motherfucker! I'm offering a Vault! Okay, a Vault! With…guns and shit inside! If that don't make you come running, go back and die in a hole somewhere. Later filthy humans, I will await your arrival with mild contempt. Okay, Alex, cut me off the air. God I hate doing shit like that. Do people really watch movies like this? This is total…Alex goddamn it I'm still on the air! You fucking idiot, I'm going to…"**_

_**ERROR. ERROR. ERROR. TRANSMISSION CUT. NO DATA. NO DATA. NODATANODATANODATA…**_

* * *

**Analysis**

**Ms. Lilith, we have strong evidence to believe that this broadcast was interrupted by the Grave Empire based in the Sheol system. Several similar broadcast interruptions were recorded from Dahl, Vladof, Jakobs, Pangolin, and Anshin. We believe that this message being transmitted through these broadcasts is a call to action from the Sheol system, though for what purpose we cannot determine. **

**My advice is to ignore these broadcasts, as they do not specifically address us or any of our allies or enemies in any way, and may just be coincidental. **

**My other advice is to never see the movie being interrupted in the above broadcast. Believe me, it's terrible. Unneeded characters up the yin yang, humor that really wasn't relevant to the main characters at all, and the fact it's a live action film based off a cartoon. Need I say more? **

**Sergeant Jessup, Motherfuckers**

**PS: And to the audience reading this, in case you couldn't figure it out, this was a huge reference to the Michael Bay Transformer movies. So go back, chuckle a bit at each reference, and continue reading. Motherfuckers. **


	2. Chapter 2: The City of Lights

Two people walked through the cold tundra of Three Horns Divide, showing no haste in their pace. They both had large parkas over their bodies, probably to keep out the cold flying around them.

They were on the road towards a parked city in the middle of the tundra, a little place called Sanctuary. The Crimson Raiders had parked the city here to refuel it after Hyperion bit the dust, and it was still used as their capital on Pandora. The two people knew this, or at least knew enough of it to get their facts straight.

"You suh you know where we go'in, Sagi?" asked one of them, a woman judging by her voice. Her language skills were obviously lacking to a certain degree, though that can be forgiven since it was technically her second language. She had fiery red hair under her hood that peeked out in curls around it, exposing her pale face and bright green eyes. On her hips were two large blades, similar to swords, with a long line of thread on the end of each one. "Dis snow lookin' the same no matter how fah we go. Gettin' pretty fucking cawld out here, freezin' my junk off too."

_**Vika Grieve: Slurring Up Your Face**_

The other man, a male far shorter than her, smiled softly. He had bandages around both of his eyes, but apparently saw just fine considering how his feet easily moved over rocks and debris in his way. His hair was a light grey color, as was his skin, giving him a statue-like vibe that made him look mildly unsettling. Despite this, he had a baby-like face that woman adored for whatever reason, with the added bonus of looking very adorable due to his young age.

"Well shucks Ms. Vika, I always know where I'm going. Though it's a perfect day to get lost, isn't it? It feels great out here."

_**Saji Mayer: Third Eye Blind**_

"Great? Sum'thing must be wrong with yo head Saji. It's cold as bitch out here, and I know bitches since I is one. Getting tired of standin', looking at fucking snow for the last two days."

"Don't worry Ms. Vika, we're almost there," assured the young man gently, still smiling his warm grin. He seemed eternally optimistic, a thing that was uncommon nowadays. "After all, it is always darkest before the dawn."

"Well, it's already darker den shit out here, and I don't see no dawn."

"It's an expression Ms. Vika."

"Well stop expressin' and start navigatin' Saji! Honestly, the crazy shit dat comes outta yo mouth astounds me sometimes."

Saji, or technically Saji Mayer, chuckled lowly, amused by her comments instead of being hurt. "Very well Ms. Vika."

Vika Grieve, the woman with red hair, pulled out a cigarette and held it up to her mouth. Inhaling sharply, she breathed a burst of flame from her mouth and hit the cigarette on the end, easily lighting it. Placing it in her mouth, she exhaled a burst of smoke from her nostrils and grinned. "Ah, fucking good ciggs. Ya think dah Raiders got good smokes too?"

"Perhaps Ms. Vika," answered Saji. "But you stole those cigarettes from a Jakobs fright ship a few months ago. It's likely the same shipment you stole was the same that was going here. Wouldn't it be ironic, if you ruined your own chances of getting cigarettes?"

"God, you sound like fucking Soap-crates or whateva dat Greek fucker's name was," snapped the woman angrily. "Stop spoutin' shit and navigate to dat goddamn city!"

"Of course Ms. Vika. I apologize."

They walked in silence for a few minutes, only the sounds of their boots hitting the powdered snow making any noise.

Vika groaned, throwing her head back in anger. "God fuckin' damn it, I'm goin' mad!"

"So you do want me to talk?"

"Fuck it, go ahead! Speak what's on yo mind!"

Saji glanced off into the distance, seemingly contemplating something. "Hmm…what's on my mind? Hmm…hair."

"What?!" she snapped angrily, not understanding what that meant. "Dah hell does dat mean?"

"Hair, yes, lots of it. Pretty sure I have some dandruff too. There's skin, then muscles, then bone. After that…well…"

"Not dat stuff you idjut!" she roared smacking him on the back of the head. He obviously had taken the 'speak what's on your mind' crap literal, and had just listed the things that were above his brain to her. "You know what I meant!"

"I did," he admitted amused. "Well…let's talk about our assignment."

She exhaled a cloud of smoke. "What about it?"

"Do you think the Raiders will accept our offer? We did send a message through the ECHOnet, but Mr. Arlon made sure we contacted the top groups available. The Crimson Raiders are on top of that list, but they are extremely volatile. Sending us means we make sure the message is sent, and if they do attack us, well…"

The woman grinned, sliding the cigarette into her fingers. She made a slashing motion to her throat, similar to slitting someone's windpipe. "…we kill dem. We are dah best Grave Servants in Arlon's service, so it's only nachural to send us."

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his parker nervously. "Well, I really hope it doesn't come to that. I'd hate to fight potential allies before we actually met them."

"It don't really matta, does it? Serusly, we got some of dah best pirate and mercenary groups in dah univahse on our side. Dah Komodo Dragons, dah Lowe Pirates, Supernova, and even Red Death. Losin' a few people is nothin' when we got people like dat on our side regardless."

Saji shrugged. "You may be correct Ms. Vika, but you forget who the Crimson Raiders have. Some of those men by their side are irreplaceable."

Vika chuckled lowly, grunting in amused irritation. "Stupid Saji, yo really need to grow up. Evrythin' can be replaced, even people. It's dah way of dah world, and history repeats dat message over and over again."

"Hmm…you are wise beyond your years Ms. Vika. Of course…given our situation, years aren't a good way to judge anything anymore."

He glanced at her, smiling softly. "How long has it been Ms. Vika? Decades, centuries, maybe even millennium? How long have we been alive?"

"Alive? An intresting word. Not sure it applies to us, being Grave Knights, but I don't remembah dah years. I lost count afta a hundred, neva learned to count higha. Does it matta? We're here, and being alive or dead don't change dat."

"Hmm, yet again you surprise me with your unconventional wisdom Ms. Vika. Well, I lost count too. It doesn't matter how long we've been Grave Knights I guess. Even if we knew down to the seconds, we wouldn't remember who we were. I honestly don't want to know."

"Neither do I. So shut dah fuck up and hurry up! I'm gettin' really tired of starin' at goddamn snow!"

He grinned, picking up his pace through the snow. "Of course Ms. Vika. I really hope to get someplace warm, hopefully with a nice bed and a pretty girl."

"Oh, am I not pretty enuff for ya?"

"Well…I know you…so…"

"Eh, just fuckin' with ya. Come on. Let's get ya to dose girls you's speakin' about."

"Uh…okay."


	3. Chapter 3: Saloon Standoff

**[Richard McGuinness] "Hmm, what do you think of that chick before?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Bit of a pottymouthed bitch if you ask me."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "True dat. The dude was cool though."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "The blind kid? He's really cute."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Of course you say that."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Hey, I just realized something."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "What?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "We haven't introduced ourselves to the audience."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Oh, right! What's up folks!? That's right! Richard McGuinness…"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "…and Scotty 'Roundhouse' Dale…"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "…are back in business! After the Carnival went tits-up, we decided to host our own broadcast show and…"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Oh don't bullshit! We're following the main characters and we don't have a real reason to do so, so eat a dick if you don't like it!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Okay, you know what, fine. We can't justify why we're following the Raiders anymore. We just do it for fun now actually. Believe me, it runs on Nonsensoleum."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Hell yeah! Now, we're following this story closely for your viewing entertainment! So far, uh…apparently some Grave Lord named Arlon wants the Vault Hunters to join up with him to do…something."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "You really don't know what's going on, do you?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well excuse me ya dick! We're kinda out of our element here! Let's just wait and see what happens!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Fuck it, why not? Pass the Tang."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "The pussy?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "No, the shit that looks like orange soda ya retard."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Oh, that. Why do they call it Tang? Doesn't taste anything like pussy, at least the kind I've had."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "It's not…you know what…whatever. I'm just gonna shut up and ignore you to the best of my ability."**

* * *

"Hey Moxxi, another round on me!" yelled Lilith from the large table in the bar, planting a wad of cash down.

The barmaid smirked, grabbing the wad and stuffing it into her bosom. "Coming right up."

Baskerville grinned at his girlfriend, raising an eyebrow. "You know, that money isn't infinite. We're kinda wasting it."

"True dat," spat Alan Fitzgerald, gorging himself on more cheap beer. "Seriously, how much have we spent already?"

"If we keep going out like this, we will rapidly run out of money," warned Baldemar tipping back some whiskey.

"Oh please, we already paid the bills and shit. For the next two years," stated Lilith plugging down a Jägerbomb without even blinking. "We even bought a bunch of new ships for our fleet and we're still only halfway done with all that money we won from the Carnival."

She sighed, planting her chin against the bar table. "I'm actually getting kinda bored to be honest. Bandit raids have ceased to a near minimum, nothing needs to be built…God damn it I want something exciting to happen already."

Suddenly the bar doors opened up, two people slinking in quietly. They wore large parkas to fight the outside cold, but something about them wasn't right. They looked…unnatural…and seemed to emit an aura that felt like being next to decay and rot. It was like standing next to a corpse.

Alan stood straight, his eyes narrowing at the two of them. He reached to his bayonets, gripping them tightly.

"You recognize them?" inquired Lilith quietly, knowing better than to speak too loudly and let them hear her.

"Yeah," whispered the priest. "Don't look at them. I want to see what they want."

The Vault Hunters around the table nodded, already drawing their weapons in case something was about to go down in the bar. They gazed sideways at the targets of their unease, analyzing their every move anxiously.

* * *

"About fuckin' time we got here!" snapped Vika Grieve sliding into a bar stool easily, ruffling through her pockets. She pulled out a wad of cash, slamming it down on the coutner roughly. "Yo lady! A bottle of scotch!"

Mad Moxxi scoffed slightly, annoyed by her rudeness. Grabbing one under the counter, she slid it over to her easily. "Very well."

Saji Mayer sat down and Moxxi walked over to him, winking at the boy flirtatiously. "And what do you want, cutie? This isn't the place for adorable little boys like you to be wandering around."

Saji smiled at her, blushing slightly out of embarrassment. "Just a glass of milk…pretty lady."

Moxxi smiled, pulling out a bottle of milk from her bosom. "Haven't given my milk away to someone for a while. You're a lucky boy."

"Well, I am Irish."

"Oh, and you're quick. I hope you're not _too_ quick though…"

"Watch it Saji," warned Vika. "She's gonna make a move or summin'."

Moxxi chuckled, twirling a finger on the bar counter in front of Saji. "I only need one move. Knocks them dead, every time."

The boy smirked. "Well…that sounds entertaining."

He sipped his milk, leaving a small bit of it on his upper lip. He was about to wipe it when Moxxi reached over and did it for him with her index finger. Winking at him slyly, she licked the white substance off her finger.

"Yo do realize he blind right?" asked Vika raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, he doesn't need to see for what I could do," said Moxxi grinning. "Besides…I bet he could hear it just fine."

Saji chuckled lowly, clearly amused. "I see more than I let on. Believe me…I see everything with these blind eyes of mine…"

"Oh, a man of mystery," she said bemused. "I always like a good mystery…"

"Hate tah break dis shit up, but we need to know summin'," stated Vika interrupting them, generally irritated by her partner's stupid flirting.

Moxxi sighed melodramatically. "Very well. What do you need to know?"

Saji adjusted the bandages around his eyes with one hand, rubbing what should've been his right eye with the other. "Do you know where Alan Fitzgerald is? He's about 5' 5", white hair…"

Alan stood up and pulled out his two bayonets, activating his Evil Angel form easily. "I'm right here Saji. Bring it."

Vika pulled out her swords, but the other Vault Hunters drew their weapons and aimed it at the two Grave Knights.

Saji chuckled, turning around to face them. "Well, looks like we found you."

"Don't play coy Saji," snapped Alan. "You're outgunned and outmatched. Don't make me rip those blind eyes out of your head."

Saji licked his lips, raising his right hand. "Outmatched? How can you saw that…"

He snapped his fingers and darkness fell on the entire room, as if God had thrown a light switch. Everyone panicked, absolutely no light being visible. Even when a few firearms discharged accidentally, no flashes of light appeared in the darkness. Then, just as suddenly, the light returned to its original state before.

Saji stood in front of Alan, his hand placed over his heart loosely. He was still smiling, showing no aggression at all. "…when I can so easily touch your heart?"

Alan stopped dead, his eyes wide. "…that's a new trick."

"I learned a lot of things since you were gone Alan," stated Saji blankly. "You've been gone for a while, haven't you?"

"I ain't bound by a contract anymore," snapped the priest. "You banished me, remember? Called me a traitor, made my own best friend kill me…you people are disgusting. Tell Arlon to go rot in Hell."

"We not here for yo, idjut!" spat Vika, glaring at him intensely. "We here to talk to Raiders."

"Well that's coincidental," stated Lilith extending her right arm out, the ends of her fingers currently on fire with one wing out from her back. "I am the leader of the Crimson Raiders, as well as the Vault Hunter Corps. You two are currently threatening several of my men. Normally, I'd atomize you for doing so. But…"

She put her arm down. "It would bring me no satisfaction. I am not as vulgar as you are."

Vika snarled, sliding her swords back into their sheathes. "Vulga? Bitch I oughta skin yo ass foh sayin' dat to me."

"Just calm down Ms. Vika," stated Saji stepping back. "We are here on behalf of Grave Lord Arlon, our leader. He wanted to see if you all had gotten his message."

"We have," stated Lilith calmly. "But I don't go somewhere without an objective, especially if my subordinates are involved. For all I know, your master is just looking for some more slaves."

"Did Alan tell you that?" questioned the blind Grave Knight. "I figured he would destroy our reputation with his words."

"Not much of a fucking rep," murmured Alan dryly. "You're all a bunch of goddamn heathens."

"I assure you, our banishment of you was a misunderstanding," stated Saji. "Unfortunately, we have actually found a traitor amongst our ranks."

The priest paused, his eyes widening. "What? Who?"

"Cassius Hardy."

Alan scoffed. "That fucker. I knew he'd try to take Arlon's throne one day. It was those envious eyes, the ones of a snake. He finally tried something?"

"Cassius took the entire last generation of Grave Knights with him when he defected, minus me. Vika just joined us, and we're still looking for more."

Saji adjusted his bandages again. "But we're here because Arlon needs help defeating Cassius. If Cassius goes to war and succeeds, well…I don't need to tell you what will happen, do I Alan?"

The priest swore loudly. "Fuck no you don't. Cassius is goddamn crazy. At least Arlon sticks to his territory and doesn't invade anymore planets without provocation. Cassius would burn the galaxy down just for fun. He has to be stopped."

"You not as dumb as yo look, clergy-boy," stated Vika.

"Shut it bitch."

Alan glanced at Lilith. "We gotta help them. If Cassius takes over the Grave Lord throne, we're gonna have some new hostile visitors."

Lilith grinned, a new form of entertainment revealing itself. "A whole new enemy to take down? Sounds good to me."

Saji smirked. "I'm grateful we got this done peacefully."

Alan scoffed. "I still don't like you Saji. You got that innocent look to ya, but on the inside, you're totally fucking insane."

"Aren't we all though?" inquired the blind Grave Knight. "Now if you excuse me, I have a pretty lady to talk to."

Vika turned back to the bar counter, pouring more of her whisky bottle down her throat. "Damn, I was lookin' foh a fight. Ah well, I gonna get hammered now."

* * *

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well, normally we'd be doing Q&A right now, but, uh…we just published this story, so we don't have anything to answer."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yeah…what do we do now?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Uh…let's say encouraging things to the audience."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Why the fuck not? You! Yeah, you, on your computer! You rock dude! Thanks for sticking with this gay-ass story for so long!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "You are a strong, independent black woman!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "You are a skilled metal worker!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "I am beginning to run out of compliments!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "As am I! This is a lot harder than I thought it was going to be!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Tatty bye for now, my lovable fans!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Later faggots! You're awesome!"**


	4. Chapter 4: Band of Miscreants

Lilith sat in the pilot seat of the _Crimson Falcon_, already comfortable in her old seat. They had set out this morning with their two newest guests as navigators, the Vault Hunters already in their barracks. She had missed this ship in their brief respite from the Carnival, as well as the feeling of flying through space. Granted they were currently going faster than light inside of one of the mass gates, but that was irrelevant. It felt awesome, and it's really hard to describe so I won't bother to.

"So Alan, who should we send to help these guys?" inquired the Siren glancing at the nearest chair, the spot of her most recent advisor.

Alan adjusted his jacket sleeves casually, his chair fully reclined. "Well we can't send Dion or Saprus, since those bastards are both still in the hospital. I can't go, since Arlon isn't one to forgive and forget, even if it wasn't my fucking fault, and anyone with mental instabilities, like Paula and Suture, should definitely not go at all. Grave Lords emit goddamn powerful auras that breed madness around them, and compel those who are affected by it to follow his will."

"Hmm…what about Wolfenstein or Aurai?"

"Wolfenstein is a total asshole, but he is definitely more stable than most people I know. Aurai…well…her child-like innocence should protect her for the most part, but even still, she's a Siren, so it's hard to control her without certain devices."

Lilith rubbed her neck, the place where Handsome Jack had thrown that slave collar before. Alan was right, ironically, as that device had nearly killed her with its usage. But Aurai was close to her in strength, despite her youth, so she would be fine with a little aura.

"Well that leaves Lupus, Baldemar, and Taika. Unfortunately, Lupus is locked in his room, convinced he's gonna write his 'new album', so that leaves us with only Baldemar and Taika."

"Sounds like a team," stated Alan shrugging. "Tell them to be careful though. If my guess it correct, Cassius is going to use the other Grave Knights, which means we're fighting guys with powers beyond your imagination. I'm not a good example of what a Grave Knight can do, since my powers were retracted from me, so tell them to expect anything."

* * *

"You are insane, Iron Man is the coolest super hero!"

"Bullshit with a side of baloney, Rorschach from Watchmen is the best!"

Paula and Baldemar glared daggers at each other, currently in a heated debate over their favorite comic book superhero. It was a very serious debate for them, and neither could convince the other their side was the most accurate.

"Iron Man is a casanova, a genius, an inventor, and a total nice guy," argued Baldemar.

"Ugh, bo-ring! Rorschach is a nihilist, a pragmatist, a vigilante, and one of the best anti-heroes in comic books, period! You can't compare hamburger to steak, so you can't compare Iron Man to Rorschach!"

"Why you…! Taika, what's your vote on this?"

The huntress barely glanced up from her comic book, a small light above her head to help her read. "Don't ask me. I'll support my Green Arrow all day long. You two can keep bickering if you want."

"Ha! Green Arrow is DC, so I win!" snapped Paula victoriously.

"That doesn't count! They're made by two different people! Besides, Iron Man had a movie, three actually! Four if you count Avengers."

"Well Watchmen did too…"

"And it sucked," commented Taika from the side.

"It did not, and I will argue that till the end of time!" roared Paula angrily.

"Whatever. My Green Arrow had a TV show. Eat a dick."

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Quick! Favorite superhero!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Ghost Rider!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Ugh, Batman."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Okay, that one is just unfair. You can't argue against Batman!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Course not. Cause he's the goddamn Batman."**

Baldemar heard his phone ring as he got a text, to the beat of Bohemian Rhapsody no less. He glanced at the text message, raising an eyebrow. "Well, looks like I got stuff to do today. Taika, we need to go see Lilith."

"Did she say what it's about?" inquired the huntress folding her comic book.

"No, just that it's urgent and we should expect violence."

"Fine. I'll get my guns."

Paula pouted, crossing her arms in annoyance. "Damn it. Now I don't have anything to do."

"Don't complain," spat Baldemar. "You got the last mission. Me and Taika get a turn now."

"If you get lonely, you could visit Lupus," offered Taika grinning mischievously. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind making music with you."

The artist scowled. "I don't want to talk to that wash-out of a musician. He should've retired years ago."

"Professional envy," whispered Baldemar to his partner, both of them chuckling lowly.

Paula blushed crimson. "I am NOT envious! He is a dried-up has-been!"

"Uh huh. Let's get going guys," stated Taika lighting a cigarette casually.

"I know you didn't believe me!" snapped the artist. "I can HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS!"

"Okay, now I'm a little creeped out," admitted Baldemar.

* * *

Aurai glanced at Dion, her hands grasping his left hand softly. He was taking a nap, still recovering from the fight he had with Jackal. He hadn't restored his arm or leg, and his right eye was still missing, but he was alive. That's all that matter. They hadn't attempted to get him walking yet, as Suture was unsure his leg would hold under pressure, and his right hand still was unable to even move due to the severing of the tendons and nerves. Amazingly enough, they knew for certain he would be ready to fight eventually, as Titans were capable of taking massive injures like this without being crippled for life.

Someone tapped on the door and the Siren looked up, seeing that it was Wolfenstein. She smiled, the wereskag walking through the door once he saw that he wasn't interrupting anything.

"Good to see you Great-Grandpa Wolfenstein!" she said cheerily, or as best as she could try. She had decided to keep being happy for Dion's sake, but it was a lot harder than before. She had watched the one she held dear torn to shreds and nearly die before her eyes, and no amount of fake smiling would change that. Still, she would do her best and possibly convince herself she was really happy.

Wolfenstein glanced at the sleeping Titan, his face blank as usual. He almost never showed emotion, and the ones he did show were annoyance and psychotic joy, though he has only had one recorded episode of him doing the latter so far.

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, that fight with Nitro."**

**[Richard McGuiness] "Dude that was a sick fight."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Because we're technically characters in this story, it feels like we're praising ourselves."**

**[Richard McGuiness] "Yeah, I feel like we're sucking our own dick."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "I've done that."**

**[Richard McGuiness] "…of course you have."**

"How is he?" inquired the wereskag lowly, his voice having a decisive growl to it. Of course, being half skag probably helped with the baritone voice of his.

"Good," stated Aurai smiling softly, glancing at Dion's peaceful face. "He's a lot more relaxed than before. The medication is helping."

Wolfenstein nodded, digesting the information slowly. He tended to do that a lot, being more of a listener than a talker. "We need you for a mission Aurai."

The Siren glanced at him curiously, slightly surprised. "Really?"

"Yes. Are you willing to go?"

Aurai glanced back at Dion, lowering her head slightly. She had spoken about becoming more active and fighting with the other Vault Hunters, but speaking was completely different than doing something. She fumbled with her hands nervously, her anxiety clouding her mind.

"Uh…uh…"

Wolfenstein put a hand on her shoulder, catching her attention. She looked up at his blank face, but saw mild compassion in his eyes.

"Do not worry," assured the wereskag lowly. "I am going as well. I won't let anything happen to my teammates."

Aurai beamed, hugging him tightly. "Thanks Great-Grandpa Wolfenstein! You really are the best!"

He offered a rare smile, one that might've been a smirk on normal people. "Thank you Aurai."

* * *

Lilith glanced out the windows ahead of her, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "Is that the place Alan?"

The planet in front of them was a huge mass nearly twice as large as Pandora, with a fairly varied environment judging by the different biomes present. The oddest thing about the planet was the huge number of ships around it, all of them colored a deep bronze color that she did not recognize as any corporation.

Alan nodded. "Yep, Sheol, the jewel of the Grave Empire. But…shit…"

"What?"

The priest scoffed, his eyebrow twitching. "That's the Universal Government ships. What the fuck are they doing here?"

Lilith paused, unsure of what they should do. The Universal Government was a huge intergalactic empire designed to secure justice and human rights all across the universe, hence the name. However, it was notorious for hiring corporations, like Atlas and Hyperion, to deal with matters it found unsavory. In fact, all primary law enforcement was not actually done by them, instead done by their puppets to keep their reputation spotless. The fact that they had ships out here, and so many, was not a good sign.

**[Richard McGuinness] "How come we've literally NEVER heard of these guys before?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Did you not listen to the author's half-assed explanation? They hide in the shadows and rule everything with strings and shit. While perfectly logical, it's still a poor literary move to just suddenly expose something like this without prior explanation."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "You're telling me. Sometimes I wonder how long it takes our producer to come up with this shit or if he doesn't even think about it before slapping it on paper."**

"Let me see if they'll let us through," muttered Axton tapping into the communication channels. "Okay…I got the signal…Universal Government craft, this is the mothership of the Crimson Raiders, founder of the Crimson Alliance. We are here on official Alliance business, stay your fire, over."

He paused, waiting for a response. He got one a few seconds later, one that caught his attention.

"Crimson Raiders, maintain your current position. We have been tracking a lot of pirate activity going through this sector, we will require a search of your vessel, over."

"Negative, negative. This is official Crimson Alliance business, we supersede Government authority, including searches and seizures. Requesting lifting of blockade, over"

"Crimson Raiders, this is not the time for foolishness. We…"

Lilith finally got tired of this and grabbed the microphone, cutting the Government speaker on the other side. "Listen assholes, this is Lilith of the Crimson Raiders. I have enough firepower on this ship to level three planets as big as this one, and the soldiers so skilled that they could wage war to the universe. If you don't want a war against the likes of Vladof or Pangolin, I recommend you stand clear. Fucking over."

"…duly noted Crimson Raiders. Blockade being lifted, apologies for the delay."

"No problem, ya faggots."

The Siren sat down and grinned, leaning back leisurely. "That was a little too easy. As soon as you mention Teresa Pangolin or old Nicky Decapitator, everyone shuts up."

"Why Pangolin?" asked Axton curiously.

Alan glanced at him sideways. "You joking? Teresa runs the Church, or the Church of Mercy if you want its technical name. It's not just for converting heathens, the Church of Mercy is an entire military organization. They distribute weapons and fight wars with the best of them. In fact, the Church is universally feared, even by Vladof."

"You're joking."

Lilith burst into laughter. "Nope, he ain't. Old Teresa looks like a kind old woman, but you don't fuck with the Church of Mercy. Those people are goddamn crazy, just a lot more polite about it."

Alan nodded. "I worship God, and I live by his words, but the only thing I truly fear is Teresa Pangolin and getting on her bad side."

* * *

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well, time for some real Q&A. And…uh…this one is gonna be brutal. It's from JcD325."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Ah yes. One of the few guys who seems to be able to point out all the inconsistencies of our stories. Which is nice since we can't see the plot holes, but what do we got this time?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Uh…a lot. So much Copy and Paste won't even let us transplant the whole thing."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Ugh, let's start from the top of the list and work down. 'I humbly reccomend you expand your perspective from the usual 87% anime reference'. Thankfully, we are going to take that advice this time. This story arc is based more on video games this time around, which is our second favorite type of media."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "He really does have a point. We kinda went overboard on the anime references."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "True dat. What's this story based on anyway?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well we changed it a bit since our last spoiler, so this one is closer to Shadow of the Colossus and Dark Souls. It'll make sense later."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Okay, next section of this review. 'Vladof strikes me as revolutionist'."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well, since this a long list of the CEO's and their inconsistencies, let me warn you by saying that advertising exaggerates everything. Nicholas Vladof is a revolutionist, but he's very stable when he doesn't want to wipe you from the face of existence. Okay, now for Maliwan: 'Maliwan, as the great Handsome Jack (RIP) had pointed out, were a bunch of war hippies'."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "I'll take that one. Well, Jack also pointed out that they were pretentious and a bunch of bitches, which we thought Jacqueline would display pretty well. I mean, yeah, war hippie is an ambiguous term, so it's likely two people will see them differently. We just went off what the posters seemed like for Maliwan and their weapon names for their personality."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, but his point was valid. Next item: 'Stanton Dahl, being the leader of one of the largest military corporations, lacked a soldier, God forbid, a general, a commander's discipline and or training'. Well the original Stanton was fairly well composed and quiet, though that one night in Neo Vegas does speak against his favor. Of course, if you use a timeline, that would place that night about twenty years ago, when he was just a sergeant. I don't know how disciplined the military forces you met are, but they are just regular people after all. They make mistakes a lot."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Well here's one that'll nut-shot you: 'Tediore is lead by a jolly housewife, mrs. Tediore'."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Oh, that one's fairly easy. The founder of Tediore is a woman. Maxwell is her younger brother. He…uh…isn't as kind as her. They advertise her because people prefer her, while he doesn't like to communicate much."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Eh, not a bad half-assed explanation."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "I know, I try. Okay, let's see, what's this one: 'Montgommery Jakobs is a law enforcer, a family oriented man'."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Oh. Shit we must've displayed Jakobs wrong. He does have a redneck style to him, but he's not a bad guy. I mean, he's courteous to Lilith…crap we need more character development!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Totally agree. Now this one is actually kinda easy: 'And Hyperion biting the dust? Did they not assist the raiders against the terror of the vault?'."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "They're still there. We didn't talk about them much, but they're there. If you're talking about Mr. Vangorium's little speech in the last DLC, that was just Hyperion leaving Promethea due to loss of power from Handsome Jack's death. Plus, Mr. Blake is a character in this story. Not a major one, but he's there. Now you take the last one: 'She is no Tsunade. She and Roland (RIP) dated, she learned leadership from a Lance sergeant, not from a bottle of Rakk ale'."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Oh, good point. But Lilith is still Lilith after all. They just had an awesome victory. The proper response is a drink or two. Perhaps a bit too American or German, but hey, you can't be a leader all the time. Wow, that was exhausting."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Hey, I'm grateful SOMEONE questions our stories. For God's sakes, we're not perfect. We're not Kevin Bacon."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "How is Kevin Bacon perfect?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "You've never watched Apollo 13."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Fair enough. Kepe sending us questions all of you, so we can finally get some usage out of this damn section. Either way, tatty bye!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Later jerks!"**


	5. Chapter 5: First Contact

The shuttle flew through the lower atmosphere of Sheol, seven passengers aboard. The four Vault Hunter team, Lilith, and their two Grave Knight guides, were all on the same vessel together. It was mildly tense, especially since they had nearly killed each other a day or so ago.

Aurai kept staring at Vika Grieve, the female Grave Knight doing her best to ignore her. The redhead was gritting her teeth in aggravation, the staring really beginning to bother her.

Finally, she had enough. She snapped towards the younger Siren, glaring daggers at her. "Dah fuck you want kid?"

Aurai hid herself inwards, apparently embarrassed. She smiled innocently, pointing at her with her index finger. "Y-y-you're really pretty."

Vika paused, suddenly feeling like a bitch for her reaction towards her. She blushed, turning away to stare out the window. "Yo soundin' like Saji, and dat's a bad thin'."

"Is it really?" inquired the blind Grave Knight smiling softly.

"Yes, it is."

"Oh, well I won't argue with you Ms. Vika."

Saji turned to Aurai, smiling his cute grin as usual. "You sound really sweet ma'am."

Wolfenstein snarled lowly, warning the Grave Knight to give up where he was or risk losing something.

"I didn't mean anything," assured Saji. "I know about her relationship with that Titan fellow. Green hair must be so odd."

Aurai paused, her eyes widening. "How did you…?"

"Know?" he completed for her. He grinned, tapping the bandages over his eyes. "My eyes see through everything, including your thoughts. I cover them to concentrate on one thing at a time, otherwise I'd suffer vertigo. I can read anything you are thinking with ease. I can even see through you, right through the wall."

"If you're gonna look through our clothes, I'll gouge those eyes right out of your skull," warned Taika.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I did it the first few years when I got these eyes. After that…well…it's not really that fun anymore. When you see enough naked people, it all becomes rather similar looking."

"Ain't that the truth," muttered Baldemar lowly.

The shuttle finally landed, prompting Lilith to begin speaking. "Listen, I'm only going to talk to this Arlon guy personally, for diplomacy reasons. If you try anything…"

"There is no need for concern," stated Saji. "We need allies, not slaves."

The Siren nodded, strapping a mask to her face. "Since this planet has an incredibly high Eridium count, close to Pandora, I can't remain outside for too long. Don't worry about it Aurai, in case you're nervous, you'll be fine. I need it due to the Eridium addiction I suffered from."

"I'm only addicted to sweets!" exclaimed Aurai popping a small macaroon in her mouth, having stowed a whole bag of them with her. She grinned in satisfaction, kicking her feet slightly like a kid with their favorite treat.

Lilith smiled, not being immune to the infinite pile of cute her fellow Siren managed to be. "Now we just go in, say some stuff, and I'll peel out since I'd rather be at home, watching Sherlock with my boyfriend. Baldemar, you got me addicted to that show."

"No problem. By the way Holmes fakes…"

"Don't tell me nothing! I'm a season behind! Come on, let's go."

The shuttle doors opened, exposing them to the harsh tundra around them. It was apparently in the middle of a huge snowstorm, the wind freezing cold outside.

"You sure the capital is near here?!" snapped Lilith angrily.

Saji nodded, buttoning up his parka. "We built it here to deter a land or air assault. If you got any closer to it, your ship would freeze. Better wrap up warm."

Aurai looked outside concerned, her eyes wide in fear. "I…I've never been in the cold before…I've…"

She suddenly leaped into the nearest snowbank, giggling loudly. "I've never seen snow before, except in movies!"

She rapidly made a snowball and launched it at Baldemar. "Uncle Baldie, take this!"

He took the ball of snow to the chest, causing him to grunt. "Why you…"

He ran over to her, already scooping up snow and forming it into a ball. "You better be ready for war my mischievous Niece!"

They fought and tussled in the snow for a few minutes, the inventor getting far more shots on her than she had wanted.

"Ah! No fair Uncle Baldie, you've had experience doing this! You're so old!"

"Old? I'm only 31!"

"What part of 'old' did you not hear?"

Taika chuckled lowly. "She got you there."

Aurai suddenly stopped, shivering violently. She slowly walked back to the ship, covered in melting snow. She had a parka on, but she had not experienced winter cold before. It was an alien feeling, and not a pleasant one either. "T-t-that was n-n-n-not a g-good idea. S-s-so cold-d…"

Wolfenstein looked at her concerned, then scooped her up. She yelped in surprise as he manipulated her onto his back, throwing a huge tent-like parka over his body to cover her from the snow and wind. When he was done, she was piggy-back on him and already toasty warm even while gripping onto his neck with her arms and lying across his back.

"Are you comfortable?" he inquired curiously, not at all bothered by her weight.

"Y-y-yes. Lot w-warmer. Thank-k you."

"No problem. Where are we going?"

Saji pointed to the north, towards a giant light in the sky. "There. The capital is a mile away. It shouldn't take us long. Follow me."

"More fuckin' snow," murmured Vika in a growl. "God, I want sum hot chocolate aftah dis shit."

Aurai pointed ahead, grinning widely. "Let's go Great-Grandpa! Full speed ahead!" She kicked into his sides like a horse, giggling lowly.

The wereskag chuckled and ran forward easily, far faster than a normal person would've done it, even with a person piggybacking on him. He was grinning widely, apparently bemused by the antics he was getting involved in.

Lilith shook her head, a small smile betraying her feelings. "Wolfenstein is way too susceptible to cuteness overload from her. Come on, let's catch up."

"Aye, aye," stated Baldemar hefting his assault rifle, tightening the parka over his outfit.

"Honestly, he needs to learn to say no to her," mused Taika aloud, carrying her sniper rifle across her shoulder loosely.

"How can you say no to that face though?" asked the inventor. "It's worse than a puppy dog for God's sake."

"Who gives a shit?" asked Vika glaring back at them. "I freezin' ma balls off out here, so hurry dah fuck up!"

"Ms. Vika, it's not our place to order them around," reminded Saji. "They are their own group, they can lead themselves."

"Apparently not, since dat tall fucka ran ahead with dat girl. Not good leadership anyway."

"Hey, I don't remember asking you a goddamn thing," snapped Lilith. "You just guide us there, I'll do the ordering. That okay with you?"

Vika snarled, turning back to keep walking to the north. "Assholes, dah lot of em. I hope dey are good at fightin', othawise dis was a huge waste of my fuckin' time."

They walked in silence for a few minutes, trying to catch up to Wolfenstein and Aurai, who had apparently slowed down and were walking slower.

"Having fun?" asked Lilith jokingly, grinning at the tall wereskag.

He looked at her blankly. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

She chuckled and pinched his cheek teasingly. "You act tough, but you're really a big softie on the inside, aren't you Wolfenstein?"

"If you touch my face again, that hand won't touch anything ever again."

"Oh, nasty. Fine, I get the message."

Aurai looked up and pointed ahead, her eyes wide. "Is that it?"

They all stopped, gazing through the snow to see what she was talking about. Then they stopped, their eyes widening as well.

The light they had been following was on top of an immense steeple made of iron, apparently being cast from the top. The steeple went straight down into a huge metal castle, covered in ice and snow beautifully. It had several more towers around it, each with its own light, and gave off an eerie but surprisingly majestic glow to it. They had originally mistaken it for a mountain it was so large, but it was indeed a building.

Saji chuckled, noticing their surprised expressions. "It is magnificent, isn't it? It's the jewel of our empire after all."

Vika scoffed, spitting into the dirt aggressively. "Just a buildin'. Stop starin' and start walkin'. Arlon's probably pissed since we took so long."

"That certainly is a possibility," murmured Saji. "Either way, we should get going. Let's hope they warmed the place up for us."

**[Richard McGuinness] "Why is Vika such a bitch one moment, but suddenly caring the other?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "It's called tsundere, a coping mechanism due to conflicting emotions with other people. It's very similar to split-personality syndrome in fashion, though its severity ranges…"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Fuck the psych report! Let the audience look it up if they're curious!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Fair enough."**


	6. Chapter 6: The Throne of Iron

The group of Vault Hunters walked up to the front gate of Arlon's castle, still staring at the architecture amazed. It had a decidedly Gothic style to it, with high archways and large curves incorporated into the design. One thing that added to the eeriness was that staring at certain sections of the building made it form into a skull or face, like the building as composed to dead people. If you looked away the effect was gone, but it would quickly return if your attention shifted back towards any of those spots. Also, the wind flowing from the castle seemed to sound like groans, as if a zombie or dying man was crying out to them. When particular sharp gusts came out, it unnervingly resembled a female scream of agony. Everything about this place should've been terrifying, but yet it was also oddly captivating as well.

Saji approached the front gate, which looked rusted and broken beyond repair. Several spots were worn to literally nothing, as if the gate had stood for millennium.

He approached a small skull marker in the center of the gate and whispered to it, his mouth pressed close to the metal object. Even with the wind they could still hear him clearly, and it sounded as if he was reciting a creed of some kind. The following is the closest recollection that could be fabricated of that creed.

_Walls of flesh or Walls of stone_

_All perish with the Storm of time_

_May we weather the Storm in your Embrace_

_Oh mighty Grave Lord _

The gate slowly began to regenerate, the metal growing back into place and shining itself anew. It bent back into shape, the holes patching themselves up neatly. It groaned as it began to open, exposing the interior of the castle. When it was finished, it was a brand new gate completely intact, shining like the rest of the castle around it.

"Wow," muttered Aurai with wide eyes.

"That's pretty cool," noted Taika nodding respectfully.

"I wish I could get the blueprints…" mused Baldemar quietly to himself.

Wolfenstein grunted lowly, not really caring for magically regenerating gates. He could've jumped over the damn thing, what's the big deal if it opens and repairs itself?

Saji and Vika walked forward with no fear, throwing off their hoods as they did so. A blast of warm air came from inside the building, stunning the Vault Hunters.

"You're joking…" stated Lilith amazed.

"Holy shit I NEED the blueprints now," said Baldemar hurrying inside.

They stepped into the castle and gasped as they were hit with warm air. It was like they had stepped into a room disconnected with the exterior completely, the temperature absolutely perfect. The windows built into the walls were all open and snow could clearly be seen outside, but no cold air was permitted to be let in by some abstract force.

Taika walked over to one of the large windows and stuck her hand outside. A bit of flying snow hit her hand and she brought it inside. As soon as her hand had crossed the threshold, the snow began to melt rapidly, pooling onto the floor as water.

"This is actually really cool," she said grinning widely.

"Yo comin' or not?!" spat Vika. "Arlon's waitin' for ya!"

The Vault Hunters nodded and kept following them, moving past the foyer and into a large hallway. This hallway was full of paintings, all of which had pure white backgrounds behind it. Then, as each person walked past, lines and swirls began to appear on the paintings, a different painting emerged. It was as if each painting had a mind of its own, drawing rapidly with unknown forces behind it.

Baldemar paused, staring at one of them amazed. "You have the Mona Lisa here?"

"No," admitted Saji. "That's what you're imagining. You know what something looks like, and the painting puts it on paper perfectly. We did it to impress our guests. Think of something, anything."

The inventor paused, then closed his eyes and began to think critically. A few moments later, the painting changed to a portrait of Gaige sitting atop Deathtrap, a huge grin plastered on her face. She was standing among a pile of dead bandits, comically holding one in a neck-grip as if she was trying to get the corpse into the picture.

Saji chuckled, bemused by his choice. "Ah, friend of yours?"

"You can say that," murmured Baldemar slyly.

Suddenly the painting changed, but he panicked. "No, I didn't mean to imagine that! Do NOT put that up there!"

The blind Grave Knight got the hint and began walking down the hall rapidly. "Uh…let's move before that painting finishes itself."

Aurai kept staring at the painting, her eyes wide. "Hey Uncle Baldemar, it's you and Auntie Gaige! Uh…I don't know what you two are doing in a bedroom, but I think you're winning Baldemar…"

Wolfenstein scooped her up, covering her eyes rapidly as he marched down the hall. "Just try to ignore what you saw Aurai. You'll learn about it when you're older."

They exited the hall of paintings and reached what appeared to be a throne room, emphasized by the large throne on the other side of the room of course. The throne was composed of iron, with several skull-like objects on the armrests and back. Seated in this throne was a huge humanoid, at least ten feet tall when standing.

The humanoid was wearing a long white shirt over his fair-skinned body, the shirt unbuttoned to expose his muscular chest down to his waistline. He had short white hair cut nearly on his head, a small beard and moustache plastered onto his face as well. On his head was a steel crown, with small shards of glass functioning as jewels. Placed beside him was a small Claptrap unit with a huge long handle welded into the top, making it appear like a mace. Oddly enough, the Claptrap appeared to be fully functioning, as it rolled around his throne quietly.

Vika and Saji approached the throne, their heads bowed. They knelt down on a knee, placing their hands over their chests.

"My lord, we have brought the Crimson Raiders," said the blind Grave Knight lowly.

_**Grave Lord Arlon: Might Makes Right**_

The Claptrap rolled over to them, planting its hands on its metaphorical hips. "Where were you two? Honestly, how long does it take to go to Pandora and talk to some people? You two are the slowest, most inefficient Grave Knights ever. You should beg for Grave Lord Arlon's forgiveness you…"

"Shut up Claptrap," snapped the tall humanoid, gritting his teeth in annoyance. "I will use you as a mace again if you speak up for me."

The Claptrap withered in fear, shrinking back. "Uh…sorry…Grave Lord Arlon…"

Grave Lord Arlon nodded at his two Grave Knights, still leaning back in his throne. "Nice work, both of you. I'm grateful we managed to get them."

He looked at Lilith, raising an eyebrow. "Something tells me you are their leader, judging by the fact you are in the front of the group. Am I correct?"

Lilith nodded. "You are. An honor to meet you, Grave Lord Arlon."

"The honor is mine," he said politely.

Baldemar looked at him confused, his eyebrow cocked upwards. "I thought he'd be angrier…or at least a bit more of an asshole."

Arlon shrugged. "Eh, no point in being a total asshole to my guests or my men. Not good for diplomacy and such. But make no mistake. Provoking me is a fatal mistake, one my former comrade Cassius Hardy dared to make."

"Yes, your men spoke of him," stated Lilith walking forward. "What is it you need our assistance with specifically?"

Arlon grunted, sitting up straight and coughing to clear his throat. "Cassius is one of my former Grave Knights, a man I had great respect for. Unfortunately, Cassius is smarter than I had anticipated, and betrayed me to seek my throne. He managed to take six other Grave Knights with him, as well as all of their Grave Servants."

Taika raised her hand like in school. "Okay, what's the difference between a Grave Knight and a Grave Servant? We're a bit out of the loop."

"No problem. A Grave Knight is made by a Grave Lord such as myself. A Grave Knight can then make Grave Servants to serve them, imparting small bits of their power to whom they please. It's been that way since the first Grave Lord, and it is unlikely to change. And now, I have 7 rogue Grave Knights with one goal: to overthrow me."

"So you want us to track them down and kill them?" interpreted Lilith.

"That's the basics. But there is a problem. First, no Grave Knight is stupid enough to step onto a field of battle without assessing the situation. None of the 7, especially the cowardly Cassius, will reveal themselves if you just ask. To find them, you must track down their Grave Servants and get the information from them."

"What about our reward?" inquired the Siren.

"Hmph, should've expected you to ask that question. The Vault will be rewarded to whoever kills Cassius."

Arlon gripped his throne armrest tightly, his fingers turning white. "I want that fucker's head on a stick for this betrayal. All the other traitorous Grave Knights have private stashes of treasure for you to pillage if you wish, I will not claim ownership of them. Does this arrangement please you?"

Lilith thought about it, rubbing her chin as if a goatee would magically grow onto it. "Hmm…sounds simple enough. But you're hired other people to help you, haven't you?"

"Again, you surprise me with your questions. Yes, I have hired many mercenary groups to track them down. So far, none of them have even found a Grave Knight, so you have plenty of time. But be warned, not all of these groups are stable. I hold no guilt if you get gunned down by one of them, nor if you kill them."

Lilith smirked. "You know how the mercenary game is played. What about those Universal Government ships in orbit?"

"Those fools are trying to track down the mercenaries I have been using, as many of them are wanted criminals, but I have not permitted them clearance into my space. If they try anything, I will kill all of them. They are not a concern."

"Criminals?" inquired Baldemar curiously. "Who did you hire?"

Arlon glanced at him coldly. "That is for me to know, and for you to hopefully never find out. Some of them are very dangerous, so I recommend you avoid other people while on my planet."

Lilith smirked. "Oh come on, who could you have possibly hired?"

"Ah, schöne dame!"

They all turned and raised their firearms at him, looks of anger plastered on their faces.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me…" murmured Lilith in exasperation.

Josef Muller stood at the end of the throne room, his soldiers beside him. He had his Nazi uniform tightened across his thin body, a large parka thrown over it loosely to keep off the snow from outside. He had a thermos of tea with him, sipping a cup of it casually.

Karasu stood to his left, his hook across his shoulder. His lower jaw was now covered in a leather mask with large metal stitches, making him look like a scarecrow. He still covered his eyes with his long hair, a large top hat balanced onto his head.

John and Jane were to his right, holding hands casually. John was munching on his metal toothpick loosely, making it appear like a faux cigarette. Jane was now wearing makeup in a minimalist style, similar to what children wear when they first wear makeup. They looked, as usual, adorable, but that was for disarming their foes and making it easier to kill them.

Finally, one new person stood to the side, a tall female with a huge grin plastered on her face. Over her body was a large black robe stained with blood in spraying patterns, as if she had been caught in a blood rainstorm. Her skin was a dark brown color, her eyes eerily red in color. Her hair was solid black and braided in two long braids down her shoulders, resting on top of her covered breasts with two large metal clasps. Across her shoulder was an immense scythe on a curved stick, similar to a real scythe. She looked incredibly unnerving, that smile of hers not helping at all.

"I didn't know you vere here!" exclaimed Josef excitedly, extending his arms out as if he were embracing a friend and not his hated enemy. "If I had known, I vould've brought my pistol!"

"Can we kill them sir?" asked the woman to his side, leaning forward in a primal, animalistic stance. "I'm itching for a kill."

"Please vait Ms. Sanguine. Now is not ze time."

Sanguine, or more specifically Bathory Sanguine, grunted and stood straight. "Yes sir. I'll hold myself back."

She grinned at the twins beside her, as if sharing a private joke. "God, how do you stand this waiting? It's been three days since we've seen action, I'm going crazy."

"It is hard," agreed John. "But…"

He cupped Jane's face, causing her to blush crimson. "I have my dear little sister with me to keep me…_entertained_…for as much as I need."

"Big brother, you're embarrassing me…" murmured Jane quietly.

Bathory chuckled lowly, apparently bemused by their antics. "Try to keep your clothes on till we're in private. Now is definitely not the best place for that."

Grave Lord Arlon cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention instantly. "Josef, it appears you arrived."

Josef nodded, walking forward not even slightly intimidated by the Vault Hunters nearby. "Ja, I vould not miss an invitation to such a glorious hunt for even ze Rapture. I assure you, my top soldiers are ready to eliminate ze targets like a swift vind of death."

"More like a passing wind, like a fart," snapped Lilith. "Your guys suck. Remember how all of mine killed all of yours when we were back on Pandora?"

"Ja, I remember."

Josef gave a truly psychotic grin, exposing his perfect teeth. "Remember vhen my men saved you from Jackal Cash during ze Carnival? If it wasn't for me, you all vould be buried in a shallow grave on Eden-66."

The Siren snarled. She knew it was mostly accurate, but it stung nonetheless.

"I get the feeling you know each other," muttered Arlon dryly.

Lilith nodded. "We're currently at war actually. I'm amazed I haven't blown his head off already."

"Ja, and I am just aching to rip open zhat chest of yours and tear out your heart," stated Josef honestly, flexing his fingers and cracking the knuckles.

"I would prefer if my throne room did not become a battleground," stated the Grave Lord. "Now, I do not honestly care what you do on my planet, but fighting amongst yourselves will slow down the hunt for my traitorous subordinates, and I only let you on my planet to help with that effort. Otherwise, I have no usage for you. So either kill each other quickly or get over your differences while on my planet."

Lilith grinned at Josef, suddenly getting an idea. "Hey, Nazi. I got an idea."

"Hmm? Let's hear it," stated Josef sipping his tea.

"Whoever kills Cassius gets the Vault and all the glory. Let's make it a contest."

The Bellum CEO paused, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "Hmm…zhat sounds…fun."

He grinned, turning back to his men. "How does zhat sound, my loyal soldiers? Shall we make zhis a contest?"

Bathory beamed, revealing fangs where her canines were supposed to be. "Sure, why not? I could use something to entertain me."

"I love games," stated John. Then he cupped Jane's face again, leaning forward romantically. "Of course, I'll only accept if my little sister is okay with it. She is what is most important to me."

Jane blushed beet red, stuttering and stammering in nervousness. "Uh…uh…I'm fine with it."

John smiled and kissed her softly. "I knew you'd say yes little sister. We're so much alike, aren't we?"

He gave his sadist smile, his eyes flashing with madness. "Of course, if we were _too_ alike, I wouldn't be able to have my _fun_ with you, now would I?"

Karasu simply nodded, preferring not to speak at all.

Josef grinned, pleased at their cooperation. "Excellent. It appears ve have a contest, now don't ve?"

He extended his hand, leering at her slyly. "Now…let's shake on it."

Lilith smirked, then spat into her own hand and grabbed his, shaking it hard. He was repulsed by her usage of bodily fluids, exactly what she was hoping for.

"May the best girl win," she said, indicating she had no intention of losing to him at all due to the word choice of that sentence.

Josef chuckled, wiping his spit-covered hand on a handkerchief. "Of course."

He turned, walking back to his soldiers calmly. "Let us head out, my soldiers. I vish to return to my quarters and take a shower. I need to wash ze essence of zhat vile voman off my skin."

Bathory nodded, flipping the bird at the Vault Hunters before she left. "Fuck you later."

Karasu remained silent, following behind his leader without a word.

John and Jane gave their bows together, grinning widely at the Vault Hunters.

"Goodbye!" cheered John chewing on his toothpick. "Let's play sometime!"

"Yes! It'll be lots of fun!" agreed Jane, already holding onto her older brother's arm for protection.

As soon as Bellum left the room, Lilith wiped her hand of her spit, chuckling lowly. "I'm glad I finally pissed him off this time. Now, I'll be heading home. You guys…well…do whatever Arlon says to do. Wolfenstein, you're in charge."

The wereskag nodded, already guessing he was going to be the leader from the start.

Lilith glanced over at Aurai, nodding at her fellow Siren. "Aurai, be careful. You are powerful, but if you use your powers too much, you may hurt more than you can imagine."

Aurai grinned innocently. "Don't worry Aunty Lilith! I'll do my best, always!"

The older Siren smiled gently. "Of course. Goodbye."

"The Fast Travel Station is to your left," stated Grave Lord Arlon dryly. He glanced at the Vault Hunters left with him, standing up slowly. "Now, it's about time I gathered you all together. You'll be part of the second wave of bounty hunters and mercenaries I hired, and I'll explain your assignment in greater detail alongside them."

"Alongside them?" repeated Taika.

"Yes. You humans have an odd quirk where you repeat things you hear despite the fact you clearly understood them the first time," murmured Arlon rolling his eyes. "Either way, go through the door on your right. The others have already gathered there for my announcements."

The Vault Hunters began walking towards the door, the Grave Lord watching them closely. When they had gone, he sighed and rubbed his forearms.

"Damn it I hate asking for human assistance," he murmured to his two Grave Knights, his voice carrying undertones of irritation. "We are not like them, and they are not like us, and it irks me to no end with their stupid mannerisms and behaviors."

"Remember sir, your army is only so large," stated Saji quietly. "We can't go up against the forces Cassius is creating by ourselves."

"Yeah. We good fighta's, but we can't fight war alone," spoke Vika, planting her hands on her hips.

Arlon nodded. "Of course. I realize this. It's still so goddamn annoying though. Least they'll be away from my home for long periods of time on their scavenger hunt. I hope this to be done in a week, two weeks at the longest."

"As do we, My Lord," assured Saji.

"Yeah, yo got no idea."

Arlon glanced out one of the windows in his throne room, staring into something in the distance. His eyes narrowed and he gripped the window frame hard, nearly shattering it with his mammoth strength. Then, he let go, turning away from the window and composing himself.

"I do not enjoy working with these people, but I cannot wait for them to bring me the head of Cassius Hardy," spat the Grave Lord walking away slowly. "That will be a day of great celebration when that comes around."

**[Richard McGuinness] "You think this new Bathory chick will last long?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "I don't know, the other Bellum people did. I mean, her name is pretty cool."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yeah. Bathory Sanguine. I swear I've heard the first part before."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "It's based off Elizabeth Bathory, that English chick who used to bathe in blood."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Oh…well that's creepy."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Definitely."**


	7. Chapter 7: Ice Cream

The four Vault Hunters entered the next room and paused, stunned by what they saw.

The room was full of people, wall to wall crowds. Some of them huddled in groups like wolves, wearing similarly designed clothing. Many were seated against the walls or pillars of the room, smoking cigarettes or other such activities for relaxation. The smell of body odor and testosterone nearly poisoned the room, almost like a fog in its density.

All of the people in the room glanced at them, their eyes showing suspicion and distrust against them. It was actually mildly upsetting, especially considering how many there were in the room.

"Uh…you sure we're in the right room?" inquired Taika quietly. "I feel like we're about to get shanked."

"Well, we are competitors for that Vault," murmured Baldemar. "They see us as obstacles in their way for the prize."

Wolfenstein snarled, bearing his fangs to intimidate the others into averting their gaze.

A few tense seconds passed, as two sides glared each other down.

Then Aurai hopped up and grinned widely, waving her hand. "Hi everyone! I'm Aurai! I like Doctor Who, Rolling Stones, and my team is going to be the one to get that Vault!"

The crowd of hostile groups laughed loudly, bursting into laughter at her cute arrogant display. The hostility dropped like a hot potato, mostly because they were making fun of them.

"Nice job Aurai," muttered the huntress dryly.

"They're laughing _at_ us, not _with_ us, aren't they?" asked the inventor sarcastically.

"Irrelevant," snapped the wereskag blankly.

They settled against one of the walls in the room and stood there, trying to hide their embarrassment. They were not angry at Aurai for making them look like mild idiots, but they were still irritated that their badass aura they had hoped to give was now ruined entirely.

One man approached them, laughing good-naturedly while walking towards them. He had short, spiky blonde hair on his head, with a pair of sunglasses hanging down on his neck with a small strap. . He wore an incredibly long jacket with a huge upturned collar buttoned to the top, completely bright red like a cherry. On the back of his jacket was a golden sun design, the sun wearing its own pair of shades as well. He was not that tall or big, almost the same size as Aurai, and gave little impression that he was a professional killer in anyway.

"Seems like you all had a rough start with everyone else," said the man kindly, grinning at them friendly. "My name is Simo Hathcock. I'm…well…I'm a bit of a mercenary. I don't like being one, but it pays the bills."

_**Simo Hathcock: The Last Nice Guy**_

Baldemar extended a hand. "Baldemar Rodrigues. The woman next to me is Taika, and the tall gentleman is Wolfenstein. You already know Aurai."

Simo chuckled, shaking his hand loosely. "Yes, I do." He looked at the Siren and smiled. "You know, there's a man here selling ice cream if you're interested. I…"

"ICE CREAM!?" yelled Aurai loudly, her eyes widening. She grabbed his arm, dragging him forward. "Where?!"

Simo chuckled, pointing further into the room. "This way."

Wolfenstein kept glaring at him through the crowds, sniffing the air occasionally. "Watch that man," he said lowly. "I do not trust him."

"Yeah, no one's that nice on a whim," murmured Taika.

"Unless he's a total idiot," stated Baldemar. "And that's unlikely, since he showed up here after all."

* * *

Aurai and Simo finally reached the ice cream vendor, the Siren quickly noting the crimson-clothed man's words to be true. A man had set up a small cart to sell ice cream to the ravenous, murderous hordes of mercenaries and thugs around him. Of course he was immensely liked because of this and had an entire posse of people protecting him and his ice cream for free. Well, free in money-terms. They got free ice cream for protecting him, so it was a pretty good deal nonetheless. It's amazing how far cold-blooded killers of the highest degree will go to protect ice cream.

Aurai walked up to the man, grinning widely. She peered into the cart, her eyes scanning the interior like a hawk. "It all looks so yummy! I want buttercream and mint chocolate chip and rocky road and…"

Simo chuckled nervously. "Well…uh…I can pay a little bit, but I don't have much money, so…"

The Siren sighed. "Fine. Just a single scoop. Mint chocolate chip."

The ice cream man nodded, scooping it out with what looked like a trench knife. Placing it on a cone expertly, he handed to her and smiled.

"Here you go," said the man kindly. "And you sir?"

"Uh…plain vanilla. Singe scoop," replied Simo.

The ice cream man gave him his ice cream, twirling the trench knife casually. "That'll be three bucks."

The crimson-clothed man breathed a sigh of relief, fumbling to pull the money out of his pocket. "Good. I don't have much, but I can afford that."

He handed the ice cream man the money, the dealer counting it rapidly. He nodded, smiling at both of them. "You two have a good day."

Aurai turned to walk away, when she pumped into someone. This spilled her ice cream onto the person's leg, causing her to look up rapidly. "So…"

She stopped, her eyes widening in terror. The man she had pumped into was a huge giant, taller than even Wolfenstein, and far larger in bulk. His right arm and leg were made of metal and immense even compared to his own body, his boot alone nearly going to her waistline. He had short trimmed red hair the color of blood, tucked in place with a bandana. He also had an immense mustache that looked sharp as a razor blade, the same fiery color as his hair. His eyes were cold and cruel, glaring down at her disturbance.

Simo appeared to recognize him, as he too began to panic. "Captain Bartholomew Lowe! I am so sorry, she didn't mean to…!"

The cyborg reached down towards the Siren, his metal fist casting a huge shadow over her. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to crush her head in for disturbing him.

Simo began to panic even more, his eyes widening. "Oh shit! Please don't do it Captain…!"

Bartholomew put a hand on the top of Aurai's head gently, rubbing her hair playfully, similar to a dog. She looked up surprised, and he crouched down to her eye level with a metal clang.

The cyborg wiped his metal boot of her ice cream casually, looking at her with no change of expression. "Sorry kid. Looks like I bumped into you and spilled your ice cream."

He pulled out a small wad of money, placing it into her hand gently. "That vendor sells a special item called the Sampler. It's three scoops of all the flavors on a plate. Go buy yourself one."

_**Captain Bartholomew Lowe: Moustache of Doom Activate!**_

He stood up and glanced at the people around him, apparently his crew. "Come on guys. There's a spot over near the wall where we can relax."

They began to walk away, Bartholomew towering over all of them easily.

Aurai looked at the wad of money, then grinned. "Thank you mister!"

The cyborg waved his hand dismissively, as if the action he had done was no big deal to him. He didn't even turn around, his right boot kicking up sparks as he moved.

Wolfenstein rapidly appeared, his left arm transformed into its wereskag form. Everyone around them stared at him stunned, suddenly deathly afraid of the man.

"Aurai, are you alright?" he asked lowly, his words slurred partially with his growling.

Aurai nodded, holding up the wad of money. "Look! That nice man gave me money when I spilled my ice cream!"

The wereskag raised an eyebrow, slowly shifting back to normal. "So…he didn't try to injure you?"

"No! That Captain Lowe looks mean, but he's really nice!"

Simo chuckled nervously. "Uh…sorry I didn't come to your rescue or anything. Bartholomew isn't the kind of guy I like to mess with, and I did just meet you, so…"

"Her safety is not your responsibility," growled Wolfenstein. "It is my responsibility."

"Yeah, well, I feel kinda bad for not doing anything except shitting myself, and…"

"Just shut up. Aurai, are you going to use that money or not?"

"Oh, right!" exclaimed the Siren. She went over to the ice cream man, handing over her money excitedly. "One Sampler please?"

"Huh?" asked the vendor surprised. Then he noticed the wad of money and chuckled. "Oh man, Bartholomew did it again. That's the third time today he's paid for someone else's ice cream. Odd, he only does that if you're like a kid. Oh well, here you go kid. Enjoy."

Aurai hefted the huge plate and stared at it amazed, her mind processing the sheer amount of ice cream being supplied to her. There were at least twenty different pillars of ice cream, each one three scoops high, with several utensils supplied to eat such a large amount alongside it. It was like she was staring into heaven, or hell if you knew how bad that stuff was for you.

"I…am becoming a diabetic today," she concluded finally, going back to her group's spot with an enthusiastic hobble.

Wolfenstein rolled his eyes, following closely behind her to shield her. This time, everyone gave them a wide birth in terror, the wereskag alone enough to intimidate them. Obviously they had never seen one before if they reacted so strongly, though seeing one in a fight would only multiply their fear of him to be honest.

Simo chuckled to himself, licking his small ice cream cone. "I'm grateful that went smoothly. I might've had to injure Bartholomew if he tried anything. I just can't stand watching people get killed."

He shrugged and licked the ice cream again, grinning widely. "Man, I really like vanilla."

* * *

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well we were going to use some Q&A, but we don't really have any questions."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Actually we had two, but we'll explain the first one later in-story. JcD325, don't worry. That thing about Wolfenstein will be answered logically. I think it's about Chapter 12 or so."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, the next one is from WitchL0v3r: 'Was the money earned from the carnival split among Crimson Raiders or were they just given to Lilth considering she's the leader?'"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Uh…we never actually gave it much thought. I guess it would be given to the other Vault Hunters, but the regular Crimson Raiders who didn't participate wouldn't get shit."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, but what did they spend it on?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Who fucking knows? We can only track so much from this space van."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "But aren't we fourth-wall-breaching narrators and commentators? We know shit that happens in real life and we're fictional characters."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yeah, well, rule of funny."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Fair enough. Either way, keep sending us questions to answer, though we might not have the answer apparently."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yeah, well, later fuckers."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Tatty bye!"**


	8. Chapter 8: Thy Foe Is

Grave Lord Arlon entered the room and silence fell instantly, even with the crowd of four Vault Hunters currently eating ice cream at an alarmingly fast rate. He was taller than everyone present, his very presence making the room slightly cooler. He looked down on them coldly, as if they were maggots.

"Greetings, pitiful humans and the like," he said lowly, "I am Grave Lord Arlon. You should be in awe, but I forgive you for not bowing on sight. I will not ask you to do so either, for that is a waste of my time."

He dusted off his right sleeve of imaginary dust, grunting lowly. "Now, you are all here to hunt down the traitors of my army and their associates. The reward for the death of their leader is the Vault I have mentioned previously. However, you should know a few things before you begin."

Arlon pointed towards himself. "All undead of this kind, from Lords to Servants, all have a chief aspect about them. These aspects are the reason people suffer and die in their lifetime. What you need to know is the aspects of the top Grave Knights that defected from me. There are seven in total: Vanity, Madness, Lust, Intoxication, Rage, Greed and Sacrifice. The leader, Cassius Hardy, is the aspect of Discord. There is an order to which I want each one eliminated."

The crowds groaned in exasperated, but he silenced them with a simple glare. "There is a very good reason for this. The order I specify goes from weakest to strongest. If you skipped one, you would get annihilated rapidly, especially against Cassius. I will tell you the first one, right now."

He pointed to the ceiling, all of them raising their heads. Above them was a huge map of the planet laid out, with them as the center. A large section to the southwest glowed golden, encompassing what appeared to be more tundra.

"Thy first foe, the aspect of Lust," he spoke mysteriously, "a necromancer who manipulates her victims even in death. Her will is as endless as her minions."

He grunted lowly, clearing his throat. "Well…that's about the only hint I can give you. Oh, and I need her captured alive. That is non-negotiable."

The crowd groaned again, and this time he didn't argue with them. "It's a pain in the ass, but necessary. She…uh…has information you can use to defeat Cassius, but I need to get it out of her. Bring her back alive, and if you kill her, I'll kill you and every single relative and friend you possess. Now, get going. I hate having the stench of humans in my palace."

He promptly walked off, leaving the crowd to murmur amongst themselves over the conditions he had presented them.

"Wonder why he'd want this one alive?" inquired Taika eating a chunk of rocky road ice cream.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," murmured Baldemar gulping down some mint chocolate chip. "Either way, it's the mission at hand."

Wolfenstein nodded, swallowing a bit of bacon ice cream.

Aurai grinned, her face covered in ice cream. "Does it matter?! We're still gonna get that Vault no matter what!" Her face, which looked like an artist's palette thrown into a blender, was smeared with the following types of ice cream: chocolate, vanilla, buttercream, cookies and cream, chocolate chip cookie dough, strawberry, pistachio, caramel, moose tracks, double fudge brownie, cotton candy, birthday cake, peanut butter cup, lemon, mango, strawberry cheesecake, banana, butter pecan, blueberry, avocado, green tea, bubble gum, and coconut. Turns out there was a lot of ice cream on that Sampler.

**[Richard McGuinness] "Wait, birthday cake is an ice cream flavor?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Out of all of them, that one caught your eye? Who the hell would eat AVOCADO ice cream?!"**

The crowds of people began to walk out of the room, apparently off towards wherever this first target was. Many of them appeared legitimately excited, casually conversing with one another with little care.

Wolfenstein stood up, wiping the small bit of ice cream from his lips. "Come on. We have arranged transportation for us across this planet."

"Why don't we just take the Fast Travel?" asked Baldemar logically.

"The stations are very limited don this planet, and many of them have been deactivated. It is most likely caused by Arlon's enemies seeking to slow us down. It is no matter. Come outside."

* * *

"This thing is so cool!" announced Aurai excitedly hopping in the seat inside the vehicle, her grin enormous.

The vehicle they had acquired was about the size of a minivan, but far more intriguing in design and less suburban. It had a long bed in the back with pads on it for seating, several SDU mounted to the sides for storage. The two front seats had the steering wheel and the controls for a huge turret gun on the top, automatically controlled by the passenger. It looked fairly armored as well, the glass completely bulletproof while still being translucent.

"Heh, call shotgun," stated Baldemar hopping into the passenger seat, grabbing the controls for the turret like a boy with a new toy. "God this feels good. I always missed having a big gun in my hands."

"Bet you can't relate that to your bedroom experience," jested Taika.

He chuckled lowly, the joke a little too close to home for his taste. "Yeah…heh…"

Wolfenstein sat in the driver's seat and turned the ignition, tapping several buttons on the dashboard as well. A large electronic shield emitted around the vehicle, adding a further layer of protection to it for safety.

Taika hopped in the back with Aurai, pulling out a handrolled cigarette smoothly. She lit it up, grinning widely in anticipation. "Let's get this started."

"Wait!" cried the Siren, hurriedly climbing to the front. She grabbed the radio present on the dash, fiddling with it rapidly. "A great adventure has to have great music! Come on, there's got to be something on these airwaves!"

She found what she was looking for, which appeared to be a classic rock station. She grinned, falling back into the seat behind her smoothly. "This planet has the Eagles! Let's get adventuring!"

Baldemar grinned widely, clearly pleased with her music choice. "Nice pick. Well, we got the coordinates?"

Wolfenstein nodded, turning on the GPS close to his hands. "I think it's about time I began a real adventure." He gave a small smirk, clearly excited. "It's been so long since I've done something like this. I hope to get some good opponents to eat during this entire thing."

"It must be so weird in your funny little brain," stated Baldemar. "I bet it's kinda boring though. Just eat and fight…don't you do anything else?"

"Nope."

"That makes you a psychopath, you know that?"

"No. Highly functioning sociopath."

And with that, Wolfenstein drove the car towards their destination, completely not bothered by the comments he had been given.

* * *

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well we finally got some more Q&A, so this story is doing pretty damn well so far."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "No shit. We got a ton of fans now."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Fans? Our favorite/follow status isn't that great in number."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "We had 7000 views this month! That's pretty damn awesome!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Fine, whatever, won't argue. Okay, first question is from WitchL0v3r: 'Didn't y'all say Sirens couldn't have contact with non-sirens?'"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Ah, noticed that didn't ya? Well, you're probably mentioning two occasions in the last chapter. The first is when Aurai grabbed Simo's arm. Well, Sirens can touch other people through their clothes, like she did with Simo, since he's wearing a jacket. The second occasion is probably when Aurai bumped into Bartholomew. That technically is a prosthetic she bumped into, as was his hand when he rubbed the top of her head. Bartholomew is completely robotic on one side."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, and there's something else. Sirens and Titans only injure weak opponents through touch alone. If you're tough enough, you can take their touch without blinking. That's how Baskerville can hook up with Lilith, or how Krieg can be with Maya, or even how Katelyn can touch Suture. So basically, we're saying both Simo and Bartholomew are far more powerful than they appear to be. They are future cast members after all."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Don't spoil that!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Oh come on, they had to notice the fact that both Simo and Bartholomew have Character Info pages from the first DLC! They're the freaking Longshot and Pirate classes! We have skill trees and OUTFITS for these fuckers!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Fair enough. Fine, just ask another question."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Heh, I still won an argument. Either way, next question, well, more of a comment, from JcD325. This one is…"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Okay, first of all, we gotta make a comment ourselves. JcD, we don't mind your reviews and shit. We actually love answering those questions you have, since chances are half our audience is debating the same thing anyway, and it makes it a lot easier for us. Besides, you're fairly nice about it, so that's a good thing."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, well, here's the comment: 'Why was Auria chosen for that mission? She is... err... unstable when it comes to violence'"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Well she is unstable, completely so. But so is Wolfenstein. The reason she was chosen is because Aurai is so innocent of mind she cannot be corrupted. Literally, I'm not exaggerating that. Her unconditional devotion to her 'family' and to Dion are invincible. She is possibly the strongest-willed person in the story."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, the only reason Wolfenstein was chosen as well is his loyalty to the Raiders and his mission. He gave up a death match with Nitro for his orders after all, back in the first DLC anyway. He's not a man who messes around."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "True dat. Oh, and that comment about Rapture? Uh…that's a Christian thing I think. Something about Judgment Day or whatthefuckever."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "It is. Either way, next question, same source: 'Why do I have a feeling that Captain Lowe is related to Captain Blade?'"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "No relation. Bartholomew Lowe is an independent pirate who never once had any pirates in his family before. He is a lot like Blade though. Really violent reputation and intimidating exterior, but a total bleeding heart on the inside. Of course, there's more to Lowe than meets the eye, but he's not a major character yet. Just wait for the next DLC and…"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Don't spoil that too!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Go fuck yourself! Fine, I won't this time. But you better be damn grateful!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Ugh, normally assholes make me hard, but you're shriveling up my balls man. Keep sending us questions viewers, even if you're a guest, and tatty bye!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Later fuckers!"**


	9. Chapter 9: Chewing the Scenery

"Cause I'm back in black!" exclaimed Aurai, singing along to the song excitedly. Ironically, unlike pretty much everyone who ever sings along with any song on the radio, she wasn't doing half bad. Well, she did have a slighter higher voice than the real singer, but that could be forgiven since she managed to catch most of the notes with only a few glaring exceptions.

Taika was bobbing her head along with the music, sharpening her machete unconsciously to the same beat. She did so calmly, despite the fact the vehicle bumped and bounced on occasions, with the prospect of losing a finger not too alarming. Besides, she had the sharp, dangerous, 'gonna mess you up' end away from herself, mainly since she wasn't a novice at handling bladed weaponry.

Baldemar was happily adjusting his Combat Clone kit with a small screwdriver, hoping to get his new upgrades installed into it. He wasn't bothered by the bouncing car either, mainly since he had done far more complicated things in moving automobiles. Hell, he had once built an electronic can opener while on a motor boat that was leaking so he could open his canned Emergency Floaty Boaty. Why a boat had an escape life raft sealed into a can was beyond him, but he did manage to open it with the aforementioned can opener.

Wolfenstein, ever the stoic one, had been seated in that exact same position in the driver's seat for four hours without complaint. He kept staring straight ahead, occasionally checking his mirrors or gauges to make sure all was optimal before returning to the road. Only once did he grab something to drink, a small bottle of water, but he made no other gestures. It looked like he barely breathed either, his chest not even rising when he inhaled air.

Suddenly, he grunted, a verbal cue to his passenger. Baldemar hurriedly made sure his invention would've fall apart before h shoved it into his pocket, looking at the driver as well. "What's up?"

"Ahead," stated the wereskag. "Foreign object."

Taika sat up and slid to the middle of the car, grabbing her sniper rifle. Looking through the scope, she peered ahead of them as far as she could manage.

"Uh…it's glowing pretty bright…looks like a building or something…hard to see…"

Aurai plopped down on her head playfully, giggling excitedly. "Silly Granny! It's an 8-11! You can tell by the giant sign!"

They all paused, glancing at her confused. Then they looked back and saw that it was indeed an 8-11. An 8-11 was a gas station/haven for smokers and hitchhikers that usually indicated that you were even remotely close to civilization in some form. And they make really good hotdogs.

**[Richard McGuinness] "God I could go for a GULPEE right now…"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Tell me about. Mountain Dew mixed with Coca-Cola…man I wish you could order those things online!"**

"Why would there be an 8-11 out here?" questioned Taika. "There's literally nothing here. Like, seriously. It's flat tundra for miles."

Wolfenstein shrugged. "Irrelevant. We're running low on fuel anyway. I wish to save the reserves of it we brought, so this is a perfect opportunity."

"Oh yay!" cheered Aurai. "Can I get a GULPEE? A Double one! No, Triple! No, wait…XTREME!"

Baldemar rolled his eyes. "You'll be on a permanent sugar-high if you do that."

"She's already hyper," commented Taika. "Hell, sugar might just make her crash at this rate."

Aurai pouted. "Nonsense! My adult body processes sugar just like you all! Don't be mean because I'm a child on the inside."

Wolfenstein snickered. "Fine. She can have one. I'm getting something to eat though. Wonder if they serve raw meat here…"

They parked the vehicle near one of the many gas pumps and they all exited. Then they realized someone had to stay with the vehicle and pump the gas, as well as prevent carjackers. So they decided there was only one proper way to do it: Rock, Paper, Scissors.

"1…2…3…go!" shouted Taika, slamming her hand down to throw out her choice.

Wolfenstein and Baldemar won instantly, leaving an irritated Aurai and Taika alone. The two glared at each other, raising their hands up into the air.

"You going down Granny!" snapped the Siren slightly-playfully, though it was hard to tell due to her narrowed eyes.

"You wish kiddo!" countered the huntress, slightly annoyed the Siren still referred to her as Granny, but finding it so cute she didn't want her to stop.

Taika lost the match (betting on Rock was a stupid idea) so she groaned and pulled out the gas pump near the station. "Get me some beef jerky while you're in their Baldemar. I'm starving."

"Can do," replied the inventor.

Aurai ran inside rapidly, ignoring her two teammates. "GULPEE!" she screamed along the way there, apparently excited to get one.

Wolfenstein followed, sniffing the air to check for hostiles. As soon as he stepped inside the gas station he paused, smelling something instantly. Not wanting to arouse any suspicion, he walked over to Aurai and tapped her shoulder.

The Siren glanced up from the GULPEE station to look at him. He leaned over, placing his mouth near her ear.

"A Grave Knight or something similar is inside here. Be on guard."

She nodded, the ends of her fingers on her right hand already glowing purple. She began filling up her GULPEE, looking around casually for someone to pop up.

Baldemar entered the store and saw Wolfenstein gesture to him, warning him of potential hostiles with a simple hand gesture. He grunted and walked over to the counter, looking at the cashier. "Excuse me. I need some cigarettes."

The cashier, a male in his twenties, glanced at him curiously. The man had the face of a teenager still, acne and cheap body wash smeared over his cheeks and forehead. His hair was fairly messy as well, and he had a small scruffy beard that would've passed as pubic hair, possibly. The oddest detail about him was his eyes, which had a black ring around the outside, making the white on the inside more clearly defined. He also never blinked, another odd detail that caught his eye.

"You got ID?" asked the teen in a high-pitched voice, probably due to skipped a few chapters in the book of puberty.

Baldemar raised an eyebrow. "I got a full beard and battle armor on and you ask for my ID?"

"I need to see it sir. Policy."

The inventor rolled his eyes, fumbling the small plastic card out of his pocket. He placed it on the counter, sliding it over. "Here."

The teen checked it, but his eyes still looked blank. They did not adjust to the light, nor did they dilate when they moved from the close-range of the card to the medium-range of Baldemar. It was like he was sleepwalking, but with far greater motor control.

"Okay, sir. What kind of cigarettes do you want?" asked the cashier, still with those creepy dull eyes.

Baldemar knew something was up, but he couldn't figure out what. "Uh…whatever the most popular today was."

The cashier paused, unsure about the appropriate response. "Sir…what kind of cigarettes do you want?"

"I already told you, the most popular today."

"Sir…what kind of cigarettes do you want?"

Baldemar backed up, suddenly figuring it out. He narrowed his eyes, grabbing his cellphone form his pocket. He hurriedly texted his other teammates, hoping they got the message in time.

_Brainwashed. Get out. Now._

Wolfenstein received the text and began walking out the door. Aurai reluctantly followed, not wanting to leave her GULPEE behind but knowing it was stupid to get into a risky situation for a frozen beverage.

Baldemar smiled, trying to appear less suspicious. "Uh…on second thought…I'll just go."

"Don't you want your cigarettes?" asked the cashier, his voice holding undertones of annoyance.

"Uh…naw…I'm fine…"

"I can't let you leave."

Like that, the three Vault Hunters drew their weapons, aiming them directly at him aggressively.

"I want to see you try," stated Wolfenstein lowly, holding his extremely long pistol with one hand.

The cashier tilted his head to the side, similar to a dog in a way. "You? Don't you mean…?"

Suddenly people began to emerge from the doors around the man, many of them wearing civilian clothing. They all had the black rings around their sclera just like him, all of them glaring directly at the three.

"…all of you?" finished the mob, slowly inching towards them like a crowd of zombies.

Aurai narrowed her eyes, raising her right hand up to shoulder level. "Not a chance!"

She snapped her fingers and conjured a tornado in the room, blasting the windows clean through with the initial air pressure. The crowd tried to resist the mighty gusts, but they were promptly thrown into the corners of the room, scattered like dice.

Baldemar hefted his assault rifle, backing up and shoving the door to the side. "Come on! This was a set-up!"

They walked out of the gas station, the crowd already having recovered from the tornado and approaching them steadily. They carried small knives and pipes in their hands for weaponry, no firearms apparently among them.

Suddenly a tall figure appeared behind the mob, a huge grin on his face. The man was wearing a dark navy blue robe, carrying a large black book in his hands freely. His face was a bright pale color, almost glowing in the darkness of the hood over his head.

He waved his hand dramatically, bowing slightly to them even as the zombies moved towards them. "Good evening my opponents! I am a Grave Servant of our lady Mortem, the most beautiful and kind Grave Knight in the land! I have no personal grudge against you, but I will defend her with all of my might! You see, we are all bound by contract to…!"

_**Solomon: A Little Overdramatic**_

Taika shot him in the neck, causing him to plop to the ground rapidly. She grunted, her eyes cocked in annoyance. "God, I hate guys who go on speeches like that."

Baldemar chuckled, leveling his assault rifle at the crowd of steadily approaching people. "They're apparently brainwashed, but that don't mean shit right now. Let's clean house."

He began unloading rapidly, phasing a Combat Clone into reality with little difficulty. The two of them marched forward, their aim perfect with only minor exceptions.

**[Richard McGuiness] "I thought he could summon 2, like during the end of the original story."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "He respec'd his skills."**

**[Richard McGuiness] "Oh, well, that makes sense."**

Taika grinned widely, flicking her wrist to activate the SDU at the end. "Go and play Roosevelt!"

"My lady!" roared the wyvern flying in the air rapidly, pleased to finally be back in the fight. He flapped his wings and breathed his large laser beam through the crowd, the electric current eating through flesh and bone with relative ease.

Wolfenstein shifted half his body into his skag form and slashed at a zombie, splitting the thing clean in half. Whirling as he did so, he raised his other hand and fired his pistol, capping three in the head smoothly. He continued forward, his motions similar to a dance due to how smooth and effortless they seemed on his behalf.

Aurai grinned widely, her childlike glee mixing with her psychotic side to form this nice cocktail of emotions in her mind. She raised a large incendiary SMG and began unloading it, her eyes huge in excitement.

"Looks like my dream of a zombie plaque was legit!" she shouted loudly, already walking forward to gain better accuracy. "This is so awesome!"

**[Richard McGuiness] "She's like a five-year old when she fights, you know?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, but it's really damn cute, isn't it?" **

**[Richard McGuiness] "You REALLY need to get another favorite character. You're obsessing over her."**

When the zombie/people had finally been eliminated, Taika walked over to the collapsed body of the Grave Servant from before, grabbing him by the lapels and hoisting him off the ground. Despite his wound deep in his neck, he was still very much alive, groaning in pain.

"What kind of opponent…*cough*…shoots their enemy while he's speaking?" Solomon demanded harshly, his eyes full of anger.

"The kind of opponents who are really tired of bullshit," answered the huntress planting the barrel of her sniper rifle against his head. "Now tell us everything I want to know and I'll ease your passing."

Solomon snickered, as if he already had a trick up his sleeve. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

"What are these zombies? Did you make them?"

The Grave Servant laughed bitterly. "No. My lady Mortem hypnotizes those who come after her and use them to defend her. It is an ingenious and perfect process, no one resists it. I am one of those puppets, albeit self-aware and intelligent. I…"

She pressed the barrel even harder into his head. "Shut it. Next question. Where is Mortem?"

Solomon narrowed his eyes, smiling dangerously. "I will never tell you."

She nodded. "Thanks for answering."

She fired her rifle, blowing off the top portion of his head. He appeared to disintegrate into ash at the shot, everything above his eyebrows completely gone.

Taika threw his body away, dusting herself off absently. "Well, that's all we got out of him. Let's…"

Wolfenstein widened his eyes, noticing something behind her. "Move!" he snapped, raising his pistol to fire at the object.

The huntress instinctively leaped to the side, knowing better than to question why someone had told her to dodge. Turning to face the object, her eyes widened as well.

Solomon stood up unsteadily, his upper head slowly regenerating. The ash from before floated back into place and settled there, growing his hair and skin back with relative ease. He was chuckling, amused to no end by what they had done.

"You all clearly don't know how to defeat us born from the cold Grave," he taunted, wagging his finger towards them. "While we are bound to a Grave Lord, we will never die. Our great Cassius Hardy, the new Grave Lord, made us so we may serve him faithfully, no matter what is thrown at us. Only by harming the mark of our contract can you hope to defeat us."

He grabbed the left fold of his robe and pulled it aside, revealing a small circle over his right collarbone. "Behold! The mark of the contract! This one sigil will prevent me from dying! Gaze at it and despair, for you…!"

"God, shut the fuck up," snapped Taika raising her sniper rifle and firing.

Solomon gasped as the bullet tore straight through the mark on his body, actual blood pouring from the wound. He collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath as he began to panic.

"Let me offer you some advice," stated the huntress coldly, walking towards him with her rifle smoking hot. "When you have only one weakness, don't expose it for everyone to see. And don't go into long-ass speeches when you can't back up what you say. It makes you look stupid."

She planted the barrel against his forehead, smirking cheekily. "Next time, don't assume your opponents are as dumb as you."

She then blew his head off, gore flying around her from the close-range shot. He collapsed to the ground, not disintegrating either, meaning he had actually died. Oddly, he did not turn into data, which meant he had not been connected to a New-U Station, most likely because he was not supposed to need it due to the Grave Knight Mark. Of course, the person who had thought up that system hadn't anticipated how much of a dumbass he would be.

The huntress wiped her rifle off blood, grimacing slightly. "Man, his blood smells like shit. It doesn't even smell like blood, it smells like piss."

Wolfenstein grunted, wiping his claws of the zombie matter he had gotten into it. "Apparently these 'zombies' are people though. They taste like it."

"Probably the first wave of attackers they sent," murmured Baldemar. "Arlon did say we were the second wave."

Aurai suddenly appeared, holding a large multi-colored cup full of a frozen concoction. She appeared rather pleased, grinning ear-to-ear as she sipped it.

"Got a GULPEE!" she yelled, holding the sugary drink tightly as she sipped it. "So where are we going now?"

The wereskag walked over to the body of Solomon, shifting through his robes critically. Grabbing the large book from earlier, he began flipping through pages. It appeared to be some kind of spell book, but large amounts of it consisted of notes of varying degrees.

"Let's see…resurrection spells…naked photos of Mad Moxxi…recipe for mustard cheesecake…ah, a map."

He tore the page out of the book neatly, examining it closely. "Well…this part is marked here. Arlon's castle is here, and…Mortem's home."

He pointed to the northwest. "It's that way. Let's go."


	10. Chapter 10: Killing the Dead

"Huh, that looks about right," muttered Wolfenstein, killing the engine slowly and letting the vehicle slow to a stop.

The building before them was mounted into the nearby mountainside, a fairly large facility modeled similarly to Arlon's castle. It did not have guards or a gate, which was mildly odd considering how a Grave Knight was supposed to be housed there.

"I don't like this," muttered Baldemar. "You see anything Taika?"

The huntress scanned the windows of the building, trying to see if any hostiles were near them. "Well...no visible snipers or turrets…this is weird."

Aurai put a finger to her chin, thinking intensely. "Well…that Solomon guy did say Mortem hypnotizes other people. So…wouldn't she rather let the people coming after her get to her before hypnotizing them to serve her?"

They all paused, slightly amazed by the logical deduction. It seemed completely correct, and that was what surprised them.

"Hot damn when did you get so smart?" asked Taika.

Aurai grinned. "Suture taught me everything! Like logic and thinking outside the box and how to make CHOCOLATE SUNDAES!"

"Sounds like him," murmured Wolfenstein. He drew his pistols, pulling the slides back easily. "Stay behind me."

They walked towards the front door of the building, the wereskag leading the group to tank the damage. Aurai and Taika were behind him consecutively, the Siren being useful of crowd control while the huntress would snipe high-value targets. Baldemar hung in the back to watch their flank and provide fire support and healing to the rest of them.

The first room they entered was a long hallway, apparently in ruins judging by the large holes in the ceiling and walls. The doors on either side were boarded shut, the hinges welded in place as well. It was fairly creepy actually, as one had to naturally wonder _why_ the doors were sealed.

They heard a glass dropping and they all instantly whirled to the end of the hall, their firearms raised high.

"Something is here," commented Baldemar.

"A genius observation. Share more of your infinite wisdom with us," snapped Taika sarcastically.

"No need to be a bitch." Despite his harsh comment, he was mostly joking, as he had a smile on his face from her vitriolic comment.

"Shut it," ordered Wolfenstein. "They might hear us."

They walked in silence for a few minutes, hearing what sounded like a group of people laughing. This was unnerving, but it did not appear to be sadistic laughter. In fact, it sounded like a group of friends watching a funny movie more than a malevolent council of evil.

They finally reached the end of the hall, entering a small room brightly illuminated. It was fairly small, with the walls being clearly visible along every side. On the far side was a huge bed in the floor, almost the size of three beds together, and a crowd of people were currently on it.

These people appeared relatively ordinary, wearing T-shirts and jeans casually. They were drinking beer, smoking cannabis, and lounging about like most young adults tended to do. They appeared to be watching a movie of some kind, though judging by their reactions and the voice of Chris Rock it was clearly intended to be humorous.

Suddenly they all burst into laughter, one line said by the aforementioned actor enough to make them hysterical. One of them, a teenage girl far smaller than the rest, was nearly in tears at what was happening.

"God, I think I'm dying!" she yelled, frantically pulling air from around her to prevent suffocation. She was wearing a long green robe unlike the rest, patches of metal armor around her nonexistent breasts. Her hair was deep black and went to her waist, several small accessories in it that appeared to be made of bones. Her eyes were a dark green color that looked like poison, with a mild glow to them that was decidedly unnatural.

**[Richard McGuinness] "Nonexistent breasts? Like, what, an A-cup?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Naw, A-cup means at least something is there. She's got mosquito bites. Nothing wrong with that though. I like ironing boards."**

The girl glanced up, raising an eyebrow at the four in front of her. "Oh? Do I have more guests? Hmm…interesting."

She sat up and leaned forward, staring at each one of them in turn. "Hmm…really interesting. Two of you would make prefect pets…but that purple one is far too innocent for me to control. And last but not least…"

She stopped dead, her eyes widening as she looked at Wolfenstein. Her jaw dropped, stunned beyond belief.

She laid back and ripped her robe open, bearing her white undershirt. "Dear God take me now handsome! I haven't met a beauty like you in a long time!"

_**Mortem: Bit of A Tease**_

Wolfenstein narrowed his eyes, clearly unamused. "Are you the Grave Knight Mortem?"

The girl paused. "Eh? Why do you care? Oh, wait, yeah. I'm being hunted by mercenaries. Gotta remember that."

She sat up, shifting her robe back into place. "Okay, I guess that means you're here to capture me, right? Well that'll dry a girl up faster than a 2 inch. There seems to be a problem though."

She snapped her fingers.

The bed instantly raised itself upwards, forming like a huge wall above them with her towering over. It went to twenty feet, well outside their jumping range. She grinned down at them, clearly amused.

"You see…you're so far down there…" she taunted. "And I…am…so…far…up…here…"

Wolfenstein raised his pistol and fired, the Grave Knight narrowly dodging.

"Oh, naughty," she teased. "I think I like you. Here's a present."

Some of the people on the bed beside her leaped off, landing smoothly below. Their eyes were glowing slightly, a black ring around the eyes marking them as her hypnotized servants. They all pulled out guns and began firing at them, their devotion to their mistress absolute. Suddenly an intoxicated, mildly stoned teenager was slightly frightening when they're hefting assault rifles and SMGs.

Wolfenstein roared, drawing their attention instantly. He shifted into full were-skag form, sprinting at them and dragging his claws into the concrete. He slashed and swiped with fury, tearing through bodies with little effort.

"Damn, you must be a beast in combat and bed," muttered Mortem quietly, biting her lip enticingly.

"You smell weird!" snapped Aurai snapping her fingers, forming a huge tornado in front of her. This picked up several of the teenagers and threw him into the walls. Despite the violent nature of her technique, this barely hurt them at all, already rising back to their feet.

"Hmm, she's fairly cute," commented the necromancer. "Those breasts though…God where do you get _things_ that big outside of an operating room?"

Taika sniped one in the head neatly, causing him to instantly fall dead. Even still, he had dozens of comrades to avenge him, filling the air with bullets around them.

"Ah come on! He was cute!" complained Mortem loudly, only mildly upset at the loss of a good-looking subordinate.

Baldemar crouched down with his Clone beside him, unloading lead across the battlefield. It was fairly disorienting, which apparently made it easy for him to not get shot at by the teenagers.

"I always liked a man with a little ingenuity," murmured the necromancer. "And there's two of them…if only there were three…"

Suddenly, she paused, noticing something. "Oh…I am out of henchmen."

She sighed, rubbing her head slightly, most likely slightly intoxication herself. "Crap. Note to self: do NOT send all your minions in at once when the people you're fighting are actually really good. Oh well."

Mortem jumped to the ground below, shuffling her robes loosely. "I guess I have to use my chief trick."

She grinned, her eyes widening as she looked up at them. She was glowing slightly, her eyes growing black veins that spread down her face.

"Go on…lust freely…" she stated, her voice echoing within itself.

Taika immediately paused, her eyes wide. "You…you…"

Mortem smirked. She raised her hand. "Come…my slave."

The huntress began to walk forward, as if she was sleepwalking. Her eyes now had the black ring in them, her mind totally subjugated to the necromancer.

"What are you doing?" snapped Baldemar, then he made the mistake of looking as well. He dropped his gun, already walking forward.

Mortem chuckled lowly, her two newest slaves now in front of her. "Now…kiss my feet."

Taika and Baldemar did so without hesitation, bowing down before gently applying tier lips to her boots. It would've been humiliating if they were their normal selves, but they could not think about that at the moment. The beauty of her hypnotism meant that it relied on a person's lust for something, anything, and turning it to her advantage. Even a lust for the love of a particular person, like Baldemar to Gaige, could be manipulated by her easily.

Mortem internally debated about the next two. The purple one was far too innocent of mind and body, meaning her lust powers were completely useless. However, her eyes could see a strong one inside the tall one, one that intrigued her. She stared into his eyes, smiling gently.

"Come…" she ordered, feeling his mind bending against her will.

Wolfenstein staggered slightly, trying to resist futilely. He roared in anger, his body already taking a step forward.

"It's no use…" she taunted lowly, knowing full well how absolute her power was. "I make any who lust for anything my subjects. It's my aspect of suffering after all. You lust for something, don't you? What is it? Power, money, _sex_…? I want to know, my slave. Answer your mistress."

Wolfenstein stopped, causing her surprise. He chuckled lowly, something else that mad her nervous.

"What…do I lust for…?" repeated the wereskag.

He looked up and his face exploded into a grin, his eyes flashing with insanity. His right side rapidly shifted into skag form, his feet doing the same thing as well.

"I lust…for YOUR BLOOD!" he snapped sprinting forward, the ground shattering under each footstep.

Mortem panicked, but he had already grabbed her by the neck and pinned her to the wall behind her. He was smirking maliciously, glaring down at her like a predator. She was panting in fear and excitement, his showing of dominance amazing to her. He was still under her lust powers, as his eyes still had the ring, but he was clearly overpowering her. He truly did lust for blood, his mouth already drooling in anticipation.

"Guess what I just caught?" he asked slowly, tracing a long claw against her neck, sending cold shivers down her spine.

He grinned, pressing his forehead into her own, breathing his testosterone-laced breath into her face. "I just caught you…my…prey…Mortem…"

He licked his lips, then lifted his right hand up. It shifted into its wereskag form, then shifted to a more bulbous shape. When it had finished, it looked similar to a club mounted to his elbow, the ends of it jagged with teeth. He grinned at her, apparently excited.

"Guess where this is going?" he taunted again, waving the large phallic-shaped limb in front of her. She licked her own lips in anticipation of the answer, terrified and turned on at the same time. He was undeniably kinky like this, albeit in a far more violent way than most people.

He placed the head of his limb on her right breast, grinning madly. He began to twist his club into her body, shoving it with slow force.

She gasped as it penetrated her thin skin, blood leaking from the wound and flowing down her clothes. She squirmed under him, but this seemed to only increase his excitement. He kept pushing, his breathing becoming frantic.

He finally got through her, pinning her to the wall behind her. She grasped at his lapels to support herself, and he didn't appear to mind. Licking his lips, he reached forward and breathed down on her neck.

She shivered as he trailed his tongue down her neck, the hot organ teasing her to no end. Then he bit down rapidly, but did not chew. Instead, he began to siphon her neck dry, almost like a vampire. She groaned and grabbed the back of his head, keeping him in place as he did so. She was heavily enjoying this, moaning despite the grievous injuries. In fact, she was moaning _because_ of the grievous injuries.

"Oh God Wolfenstein, more! More…hurry! Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

He smirked into her neck, and took one long suck to her artery. This did it, the Grave Knight screaming loudly in pain and pleasure as a geyser of her blood flew off to the side.

**[Richard McGuinness] "I think I'm gonna hurl…"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "I already did. Use this bucket."**

Wolfenstein finally let go of her neck, then shifted his right arm so he slid off the new growth, leaving it embedded in her chest. He crouched down and lapped up the blood she had spilled, his long canine tongue doing so easily. He was still smirking lowly, an expression that was absolutely terrifying on the normal stoic man to say the least.

He stood back up, glancing at the twitching and squirming girl. His eyes were wide, scanning her entire body ravenously. "What to do next…?"

She panicked slightly, the idea of him continuing frightening even to her. "Wait! I'm really sensitive right now! Don't do…!"

"I think I'll take this back," he said grabbing the shards of his arm, not at all bothered by the implications that would have.

He yanked it out, releasing a torrent of blood from the Grave Knight that pooled over both of them.

Mortem screamed even louder, collapsing to the ground in spasms. "Oh God you're the _best_! You take my breath away, you _beast_!"

He licked his lips, pleased by the sheer amount of blood she had exuded. Obviously being a Grave Knight currently with a contract meant they could bleed indefinitely, or she was just a special case. He didn't care, he loved every second of it. He leaned forward and grabbed her right hand, noticing something.

He glanced at the back of the right wrist, eyeing her Grave Knight Mark. Unlike Solomon's from before, this had several small lines in it forming a large pattern that seemed infinitely complex in nature. He grinned at her, scratching it slightly.

She stood erect, her entire body rigid, before letting out a huge scream that nearly burst his eardrums. He had just shut off her immortality, and apparently part of her pain deterrents judging by her reactions.

"No, you won't die," promised Wolfenstein cupping her face, pulling out a small syringe. He plunged it into her neck, leaning forward to breathe her own blood back into her nose. "This will keep you alive while we bring you back. I'm a man of my word of course."

He pulled out a small SDU, holding it in front of her face. He pushed the button, the device already beginning to trap her. In seconds, her body was completely inside the device, enabling him to easily carry her back to Arlon.

Wolfenstein stood up, licking his mouth clean of blood. He finally began to calm down, his bloodlust sedated for the moment. The black ring inside his eyes slowly began to fade into nothing, his senses returning to normal.

He glanced at Baldemar and Taika, noticing how they too were coming back. "Are you okay?"

"God, my head," muttered the inventor rubbing his forehead. "Whatever the hell she did, it hurts like hell. I couldn't even think in that state. I…I didn't do anything stupid did I?"

"Besides kissing her feet, no."

"What?!" yelled Baldemar panicking. "Oh God I kissed another girl's feet…Gaige is going to kill me! Or invite Mortem to one our sessions…I'm not sure which I'd prefer…"

Taika spat out a chunk of phlegm, adjusting her hat with one hand. "Damn, even roofies don't compare to that."

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "No they do not!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Says the expert of the craft. Ugh, I think I just had a reverse-boner for how disgusting the hints you just gave off were."**

Wolfenstein glanced at his ruined jacket, the blood permanently stained into it. Without a second thought, he tore it off his body, leaving him bare from the waist up.

Poor Taika nearly had a heartache, the aphrodisiac-like effects of the hypnosis still having a large grip on her body. Blood flew from her nose, which she rapidly clutched at in embarrassment.

Aurai glanced at her curiously, genuine confusion crossing her face. "Granny, did you bump your face into something?"

"No! I mean…yes I did!" she snapped running to the exit. "Why are we still standing here, isn't it time we head out!? I'll start the car!"

Baldemar snickered, understanding why she really wanted to go outside. "Heh. That shy little pervert. And I thought I was bad."

"Irrelevant," stated Wolfenstein blankly, despite the clear fact he was the target of Taika's floundering. "Let's deliver this package."


	11. Chapter 11: Like Father

Grave Lord Arlon raised an eyebrow as the Vault Hunters stepped into the room, legitimately surprised. "Huh. You're back quickly. Why is the tall one shirtless? Eh, whatever, weirder things have happened in my throne room. What did you get?"

"Mortem," answered Wolfenstein simply. He pushed the button on the SDU, releasing the female Grave Knight.

Mortem collapsed to the floor, got her bearings rapidly, and then hugged the wereskag's legs tightly. She appeared to have fully regenerated while inside the SDU, though her Mark was completely gone from her body.

"Oh you animal!" she yelled rubbing her cheek against his knee like a cat, purring slightly as well to increase the act. "You kept me waiting so long! This pussy cat is ready to play, meow! Punish me more master!"

Arlon rolled his eyes, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "Mortem…"

The Grave Knight turned, then narrowed her eyes. "Dad…"

She stood up, getting instantly red in the face. "What the fuck man?! I decide I want to move out and you KIDNAP ME!? What kind of shit is that?!"

"You sided with my enemy!" he snapped back, his anger rising along with hers. "What kind of daughter betrays her own father!?"

"Wait, what the hell…?" murmured Taika confused. "Are…are you two related?"

Mortem pouted, turning away from the throne. "Unfortunately, I am. That bastard on that throne is my biological father, though I hate acknowledging such a connection."

Arlon groaned aloud. "Mortem's been a rebellious thorn in my side since she became a Grave Knight. I never should've made her into one. She runs away, she pesters me…"

He stood up, suddenly shouting again. "…and you sleep with so many people I am beginning to wonder if you have any decency at all!"

"How dare you judge me about what I do in my spare time!?" roared Mortem. "You're one to talk! You were worse than Genghis Khan once! Hell, I'm proof of that! How many wives did you have before Mom, ten? Twenty?"

"Two centuries is a long time…" he murmured, quietly embarrassed by her comments. "Either way, that does not justify you betraying me! I will not accept such a thing!"

"And what are you going to do, huh?! You know what old man, I got something for you to do: bite me!"

Arlon grinned, his smile malicious. "I don't need to do anything my daughter. I know the best way to get to you."

Mortem paused, glancing at him sideways. "Bring it on old man! I can take anything! Torture, groundings, educational documentaries! Hell, I enjoy the first one! Just ask the tall guy over there!"

Arlon said nothing, just flashing that same knowing smile that made him appear like a Cheshire cat. He had his hands clasped in front of him patiently, not saying a single word. Just…smiling….

The necromancer began to panic, her mind rushing with ideas on what he was thinking. "What?! You're…you're gonna take my sex toys aren't you! N-n-no big deal, I don't need them! I can get plenty of partners! Wait…unless…no! Not the chastity belt! I broke all my fingernails trying to pry the last one off! Don't do that!"

Arlon continued smiling, letting her mind come up with even more horrible ideas.

"Oh God, you won't make me go to church again will you?! Do you know how much that sucked last time?! I ripped my own ears off, but the damn things grew back anyway! Oh…oh my God…you wouldn't…you wouldn't make me play _Aliens: Colonial Marines_ would you!? Don't be cruel! That's just not right!"

Arlon said nothing, but she finally gave in, collapsing to her knees and bowing her head.

"Forgive me father! I will never abandon you again! I am so sorry, please show mercy!"

Saji put a dignified hand up to his mouth, blocking his smile. "She's so cute when she begs My Lord."

"Aye, a real cute ass-kissa," commented Vika, smirking cheekily.

Arlon nodded, adjusting himself in his throne. "I forgive you my daughter. Now…"

"Yay!" yelled the necromancer. She went right back to hugging Wolfenstein's leg, rubbing herself even more vigorously against it. "Can I take this one back to my room? He's really sexy and we share a lot in common and he's got big feet!"

"I just forgave you and you want to bag another douchebag!?" snapped Arlon angrily. "No offense Vault Hunter."

"None taken," muttered Wolfenstein, quietly trying to shrug off the Grave Knight on his leg.

"Of course I do! It's been…four hours since I got it in!" yelled Mortem. "That's like…way too long!"

"Get what in?" questioned Aurai innocently.

"We'll explain when you're older," promised Taika quietly.

Arlon grunted in annoyance. "Listen Mortem, I have to reapply my Mark with you so you won't turn on me again. Saji, go apply it."

"Oh, I get Saji?" she asked eagerly.

Mortem stood up and ran over to the blind Grave Knight, hugging him tightly. "It's been so long Saji! I missed you the most!"

The blind Grave Knight chuckled, patting her on the back. "Ah, it is nice to have you back Mortem. Now, let's get to Marking you…"

"Well it hurt?" she asked quietly, pouting slightly and offering her best puppy-dog eyes that she could to gather sympathy.

Saji smirked widely. "A lot."

"Excellent! Let's go!"

The two of them walked off, leaving a very confused group of individuals behind.

"Dere's summin wrong with ya daughta My Lord," stated Vika blankly. "She's…kinda fuckin' crazy."

"I am very aware of this," murmured Arlon rubbing his temples again. He turned to the associates who had brought Mortem to him, the Vault Hunters. "Now, you completed the first goal exactly as I specified. For that, you deserve a reward. Vika, the chest."

The Grave Knight nodded, pulling out an SDU from her pocket. She slid it across the floor smoothly, Wolfenstein catching it with his foot. The wereskag pushed the button on the top.

Instantly the SDU birthed a large treasure chest into life, the huge container opening itself as well, revealing an array of loot.

"Enjoy," stated Arlon dryly. "But…I guess it's about time I have you the next goal as well."

"Wait, aren't the other guys missing?" inquired Baldemar logically.

"No, I broadcast my messages over the ECHO. It'll be fine."

Arlon stood up, pointing towards the ceiling like last time. The ethereal map appeared above them, the glowing golden section shifting to a more forest-like area to the east.

"Thy next foe, the aspect of Madness," he spoke mysteriously, his voice the same hypnotic tone as before, "a child with no grasp on reality. His innocence is what makes him so terrifying."

He stopped, sitting back down calmly. "You all are welcome to spend the night at my castle till morning, as you helped me get my daughter back. Don't expect this honor again though, unless you are willing to do another favor for me."

Wolfenstein bowed slightly. "Thank you. For the rooms and the guns."

"Eh, whatever. Now get going. I hate looking at humans for long periods of time."


	12. Chapter 12: McMorning Wood

Wolfenstein woke up comfortably, his massive body accommodated by an even larger bed. He was pleasantly surprised that his feet did not hang over the edge, something that happened a lot due to his height. Being 7 feet tall did make it hard to find comfortable sleeping quarters, or comfortable anything in all honesty.

He rubbed his right eye with the back of his hand, then noticed something. It looked like a giant mass of black hair on his bare abdomen, about the size of a volleyball. He was used to seeing hair on his chest, as he was naturally hairy due to his skag blood, but this was new. It was almost like a cancerous growth in a way, as it appeared to breathe in sync with him.

He poked it, the volleyball quivering slightly. Then it looked up at him, a pair of green eyes poking from the mass of hair. Then a nose and a smile, an innocent one at that.

"Morning master," spoke Mortem, the mass of hair being her head. He quickly noticed a few things when that realization came to mind. First, he was completely naked. Second, she was also naked. And three, she was far too close to him in every sense of the word. Think about that for a few moments and you'll figure out what I meant.

**[Richard McGuinness] "Wait, was she…?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yep. Playing a kazoo."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "While he was sleeping. That's…uh…sexsomnia?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "That sounds about right."**

He grabbed her by the neck and threw her off, nearly denting the wall when she hit it. He snarled at her, rapidly drawing sheets over his lower half.

"You stupid bitch!" he snarled in anger, uncharacteristic anger filling his body. Granted, this was a special circumstance after all. "Rubbing my leg is one thing, but…this…damn it I'm so angry I want to kill you!"

She kneeled in front of the bed, giving her largest puppy-dog eyes that she could manage. "Please don't be mad master. I was just trying to…"

"And stop calling me master!" roared the wereskag. "Get the hell out of my room as a whole or you'll leave in a body-bag!"

She stood up, exposing her naked body. She put her hands on her hips, flaunting her pubescent self in front of him. "But master…don't you like what you see?"

"No I do not!" he snapped grabbing his discarded jacket. He threw it at her, the Grave Knight catching it smoothly. "Take that and get out of my room! I should kill you for doing such indecent acts to me while I was sleeping!"

"But master, you liked it when you were sleeping…" commented the Grave Knight dryly. "Look, you got a huge wet spot over your…"

"Shut it and go! I need to clean myself!"

Suddenly the door threw itself open, a huge figure standing in the doorway. It was Grave Lord Arlon, his eyes groggy with sleep. He was wearing a long dark blue robe over his body, a large G over the right breast pocket.

"Damn it the walls aren't soundproof, what's going on?" asked the ruler angrily. Then he paused, noticing the two naked people. He sighed, figuring things out rapidly.

"Let me guess. My beautiful, pure-hearted virgin daughter woke you up with morning fellatio against your will and now you're infuriated at her due to the rape implications."

"It wasn't _just_ fellatio…" teased Mortem.

"I think I'm going to be ill," muttered Wolfenstein.

"I sympathize," stated Arlon dryly. He glared at his daughter. "First of all, put some goddamn clothes on. Second, get back in your room. And third, don't EVER do something like this again, or I'll make you play _Ride to Hell_."

"Now that is just mean!" she snapped defensively. She grabbed the jacket Wolfenstein had thrown at her and wrapped just below her waist and right above her nipples, barely covering anything at all. "Fine, I'll go! God, take away all my fun. Tight-ass old fart."

She walked off, leaving the two barely dressed men alone.

"Uh…should I be apologizing?" inquired the wereskag.

"I think I should apologize," said Arlon blankly. "She's…aggressive. But since you're a human, I won't apologize. Try to leave as soon as possible."

He turned and exited the room promptly, mumbling something about adding locks to the doors.

Wolfenstein shrugged and laid back on his bed, grabbing his boxer shorts that had been removed from his body. Rapidly noticing the wet stains on them, he scowled and threw them out the nearby window.

"Guess I need new ones," he murmured absently stretching himself on the bed. "Fine, whatever. I just hope my day doesn't get any worse."

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Jesus, look at that body. He's like a male Aphrodite."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Did you just compare a dude to Aphrodite? Are you trying to alert the audience to the fact that you are a faggot?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Come on, just take a good look at him! He's even got that weird V thing underneath his abs that make woman pregnant just by looking at it!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Fair enough. Ew, I looked too far south. Gonna have to wipe that from my mind with a couple shots of scotch."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Oh, let me see! Uh…I think I just got a little pregnant."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "You better stop drinking, or your kid will end up like you."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Are you implying that I am retarded?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "No, just that you're of lesser intelligence."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "…give me that drink. And you call me a fancy-worded Yale bastard."**

* * *

Baldemar drove the large vehicle, Wolfenstein opting to instead lounge in the padded back due to his 'lack of sleep'. Taika was beside him in the passenger seat, Aurai remaining in the back and examining all the things they drove past.

"What are those?" she asked pointing to the side, her eyes wide in curiosity.

"That's a rock," muttered Wolfenstein lowly, not really bothered by answering her questions.

"Oh. And that?"

"That's a tree."

"Oh. And that?"

"That's a McDonald's."

"Oh. Wait, what's a McDonald's?"

"The reason obesity exists," stated Taika dryly, smirking.

"What's obesity?"

"It's what happens when you eat too much food," explained Baldemar.

"Obesity sounds awesome! Can we get it?"

They all chuckled in amusement, then the inventor turned the vehicle.

"You know what, I've been dying for a Big Mac anyway," commented Baldemar rubbing his stomach. "Anyone else hungry?"

* * *

After a quick trip through the drive-thru, they were continuing their drive through the tundra towards the forest. Since nothing even remotely interesting happened during the escapade, I shall not cover what happened in a McDonald's drive thru.

Baldemar glanced to the side, chowing down on a Big Mac. "I thought you were going to order a salad Taika."

"The salads here are worse than the burgers," she explained biting into a McChicken. "At least this isn't going to kill me in twenty years."

Wolfenstein nodded, chopping clean through his 'McGangBang'. This tasty sandwich concoction is created by taking a McDouble and putting an entire McChicken sandwich in between the two hamburger patties. So for two dollars you created a sandwich that contains nearly 800 calories and 39 grams of fat. "Try it Aurai. It's not as good as it looks."

**[Richard McGuinness] "Okay, I wanna try a McGangBang now."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "But it's so fattening…!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Fuck that! Hashtag-Murica-YOLO!"**

Aurai glanced at her Big Mac skeptically, suddenly wishing she had ordered less. Then, shrugging absently, she bit down into it. Munching for a few seconds, she gave her critique.

"This is absolutely disgusting."

She grinned widely, swallowing the bite easily. "I LIKE it!"

"Yeah, that's most peoples' reaction," commented Baldemar. "They're pretty damn gross, but they have an odd charm to them that makes it impossible to leave one half-eaten."

"You did get a Happy Meal too," reminded Taika. "I think it even has a toy."

Aurai grabbed the small red box, ripping the top open eagerly. Reaching inside, she grinned as she pulled out a small plastic figurine. "Awesome! I got General Grievous! Best toy EVER!"

"Not bad for something produced with child labor," murmured Wolfenstein dryly, continuing to eat his double Big Mac.

"Ah don't be a sour pus," stated Baldemar tossing his wrapper out of the window. "Compared to some of the other shitty corporations, McDonald's is pretty tame. Need I even remind you of the shit Hyperion did, like experiment on you?"

"The wereskag idea was originally Jakobs," argued the wereskag. "Hyperion weaponized it for their own usage. Of course, the reason Jakobs stopped is the same reason Hyperion stopped: We're simply too effective as soldiers."

Taika smirked. "Arrogant much?"

"Like you're one to talk, El Cazador, greatest hunter in the universe."

She chuckled, mildly bemused by his comment. "Fair enough. Now do even have any idea where this new guy is?"

"Nope," admitted Baldemar. "But who gives a shit? We're figure it out. Or we'll just patch into the ECHO broadcasts and figure out what the other groups have in terms of leads."

**[Richard McGuinness] "That's devious."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "That's tactics."**

Aurai glanced over at Wolfenstein, her eyes widening suddenly. "Wait, why did you get a Happy Meal? You had two of those sandwiches Great Grandpa!"

He nodded, reaching inside his own red box. "Yes, you are correct. I ordered one because…"

He pulled out the small plastic toy of his own. "I believe my Darth Vader challenges you for a duel."

Aurai grinned, raising her General Grievous. "Bring it you withered old Jedi! I am the finest cyborg in the Galactic Empire!"

"You are a foolish substitute for a once proud order," spoke the wereskag in his best Darth Vader impersonation, which was fairly adequate. "Prepare to meet the owners of those lightsabers you stole, in Hell."

They childishly clashed toys, the far larger Wolfenstein clearly having as much of a good time as the Siren. They even had the lightsaber effect noises down, which was pretty funny coming from a man built like a refrigerator who sounded like a garbage disposal.

"You are nothing old Jedi! I was designed to be your death!"

"I died a long time ago. Your threats and actions are hollow."

Taika chuckled to herself, glancing at the two of them amused. "The great Vice Admiral of the Crimson Raiders, a ferocious half-human, still plays with children. You are nothing but a big softie under that fur."

"I did not ask for your opinion woman," said Wolfenstein, still in his Darth Vader voice.

"Stay out of this matter Granny…I mean woman!" exclaimed Aurai, trying her hardest to keep her General Grievous impression.

"If only I wasn't driving," murmured Baldemar slightly saddened at his inability to play with them. "I am a huge _Star Wars_ fan. I'd wreck shit up as Han Solo."

"Eh, I was more of a Boba Fett girl," commented Taika. "But we didn't get Happy Meals, so no go for us."

"Excuse me. I didn't feel like paying 5 bucks for 400 calories at most. I prefer something filling."

"Fair enough."

They kept driving, the sounds of the 'lightsaber battle' in the back slightly entertaining to them as background music.

Suddenly they stopped, the ECHO scanner having picked up a nearby transmission. Baldemar grabbed the earpiece, listening to it intently.

"Hmm…looks like some people called the Lowe Pirates found someone," murmured the inventor. "But…the guy's moving, and…"

He smirked. "The guy's too powerful. They're calling for assistance before they engage."

Taika chuckled. "Wow, bloodthirsty brigands asking for assistance. Must be our lucky day."

"Hey, you said Lowe Pirates right?" asked Aurai curiously, dropping her General Grievous impersonation for a moment.

"Yeah, why?"

"That big guy with the metal arm and leg was their captain! Bottle Of Mayo or something."

"Bartholomew," correct Wolfenstein. "If that is the case, I hope he is still as civil as before. Otherwise, we may have two fights on our hands."

Baldemar nodded. "Yeah, can't predict pirates anymore. Gear up ladies and gentlemen, we got a Grave…thing…to hunt."


	13. Chapter 13: The Sandman

Baldemar stopped the vehicle slowly, his eyes scanning the area in front of them. They had reached the beginnings of the forest when they stumbled upon a rather large town. It looked to be fairly old, made entirely of weathered stone and concrete. It was completely abandoned, many buildings in ruins and decaying.

"Lowe Pirates, this is the Crimson Raiders," stated the inventor into the ECHO radio. "We are parked to the east of the city border. Give us your coordinates."

"Crimson Raiders, we read you loud and clear," answered the radioman of the Lowe Pirates in a whisper. "We see your vehicle. Move to the west for two clicks and enter the largest building. Try to be quiet too. The person we're hunting is close by, and he does not fuck around. Let me be the first to welcome you, since we really are getting our asses handed to us."

"Lowe Pirates, roger that. And also, no problem dude. Just stay there and don't die."

Baldemar stepped out of the vehicle, grabbing his assault rifle. "You heard the man. Try to keep it quiet."

They all nodded, drawing their weapons to prepare for an offense. They began slicking through the town ruins, staying in the shadows of the buildings.

"How bad do you think this guy is?" murmured Taika lowly, holding a huge sniper rifle in her arms.

"Bad enough for a 'the enemy of my enemy' situation," replied Aurai analytically.

"Seriously, when did you get smart?"

"Like I said, Suture is my mentor. He wouldn't tolerate stupidity."

Wolfenstein shushed them, his nose picking up something. "Ugh. I smell that."

"What?" inquired Baldemar glancing back at him.

The wereskag gritted his fangs. "It smells like blood. And lots of it."

"Then let's really not get caught."

They finally reached what appeared to be the right building, a huge tower, and saw an open door on the side. A head poked out of the doorway and saw them. It was a man wearing a red bandana, clearly a pirate. He waved at them to come inside, his eyes wide in mild fear.

"Come on, hurry," he urged quietly. "That guy's close. Even in here, don't make any noise."

The Vault Hunters walked into the building and noticed that many of the Lowe Pirates were inside, their weapons ready to fire. All of them were hiding in the edges of the windows and broken building chunks, trying their hardest to remain low. They were whispering amongst themselves, some of which were pretty disturbing.

"That tall guy took a sniper shot to the head and didn't even flinch."

"He's got Dave, man."

"How do you kill something that durable?"

The bandana guy pointed to the stairs near the corner of the room. "The boss is on the top floor. He's curious to meet you guys. But don't attract attention."

The Vault Hunters began crawling up the stairs, avoiding the holes in the wall as efficiently as possible. The Pirates around them were glancing at them in mild awe, their comments now mildly flattering.

"Jesus, _those_ guys took down the Carnival and Jackal Cash?"

"That purple one is pretty cute."

"Dude, that tall one though. He's damn good-looking. No homo."

They reached the top of the stairs and saw what remained of the final floor. It had been stripped of the roof above, leaving only a few remaining walls with several huge holes in them for structure. To the side was a huge humanoid with a metal left arm and leg, standing behind what remained of a large wall. He was Bartholomew Lowe, carrying an immense SMG in his human fist.

He glanced at them, raising an eyebrow as he recognized Aurai. "Huh, didn't expect to see you again."

"Thanks for the money again, by the way," whispered Aurai.

He shrugged. "Eh, no big deal. Listen, we got a problem here. This guy is wrecking my crew and anyone who comes near. We had a second group try to steal the kill from us and…"

He grunted, smirking slightly as well. "That didn't work for them."

Bartholomew looked out of cover, grimacing lowly. "But…that fucker has some of my men."

"Will they talk?" inquired Wolfenstein getting to the cover beside him.

"No. They are loyal to me. But…it is hard to watch."

"Where is he?" asked Taika. "I can take him out if…"

Bartholomew shook his head. "That's how they got captured. This guy…doesn't die. He's to the north. Just watch."

They all peered out of cover, catching sight of a large courtyard to the south. There was a large congregation of men there, with a few of them on their knees before them. The most noticeable one, however, was the definite target. He was taller than the other ones, his body long and lanky. He was wearing a huge red Hawaiian shirt, the large flowers on it a bright yellow color in contrast with sleeves that went past his hands. His pants were blue bathing shorts, his legs covered in huge brown leather belts from ankles up to his knees. His skin was a rick black color, his eyes a glowing gold color that seemed to sparkle with sadism. His black hair extended far past his shoulders in a wild fanning pattern, the ends of it curled in random parts and sections. All in all, he looked downright weird.

The tall man glanced at one of the kneeling men, grinning widely down at the man. He began to laugh, in a way that was remarkably unique.

"Kelkelkelkelkel…" laughed the dark-skinned man tauntingly, licking his lips and accidentally hitting the bottom of his nose due to his overly-long tongue. "Looks like we got us one of those Lowe Pirates. Well he's looking mighty low to me. Kelkelkelkelkel…what shall I do?"

_**Noyade Sable: Drowning in Passion**_

The pirate didn't even look at him, trying to remain decent even when faced with death.

Noyade grabbed his chin, snarling lowly. "Look at your death heathen. You should be grateful, seeing a loyal soldier of Holy God before you die. Not many get this privilege. Now, I'll ask you one question. If you answer the right way, you'll die quickly. If not, I'm going to purify your body through pain. Now, here's the question: Where are your comrades?"

The pirate gritted his teeth, internally debating the question. "They…they ran off. They left me."

The man nodded slowly, then struck the man rapidly. "You're lying to me heathen! I can see it in your eyes!"

He grinned sadistically, an idea forming forth. "Heh. Let's see how well you lie without air."

He grabbed the man by the neck and lifted him off the ground. Suddenly, his hand materialized into sand, flowing onto the man's body and stretching over his face. The man panicked as it covered his mouth and nose, blocking his airways.

"The maximum time for humans to live without oxygen is 3 minutes," stated Noyade licking his lips. "Of course, you're struggling. That's about 2 minutes. Now point in the general direction, and I might speed this up a bit."

The pirate said nothing, kicking his legs and trying to rip off the sand desperately. He was not willing to give up, even when faced with death. Then, accidentally, he glanced sideways at the building the Lowe Pirates were hiding in.

The man turned, glancing at the tower. He saw a small head in one of the windows not slow enough to duck inside and grinned. He reached into his shirt, pulling out an immense revolver. He put it against the man's temple, cocking the gun easily.

"Thank you heathen. Die in peace," said Noyade lowly.

Then he blew the man's brains out, splattering his shirt with blood. Dropping the carcass, he shot the rest of the captive pirates in turn, hitting each one in the head.

"Shit, move now!" exclaimed Bartholomew, knowing full well it did not matter if they were heard now.

The man glanced at the building, then collapsed to his knees. He raised his hands to the sky, closing his eyes and putting his face to heaven.

"Dear God, please forgive these heathens for hiding from your loyal servant!" roared Noyade loudly, making damn sure they heard him. "May you, in your infinite mercy, forgive their trespasses through their blood! Blood I shall shed for them!"

He then slammed his arms into the ground, the limbs disintegrating into sand. The sand snaked across the ground, mixing with the dirt easily. It overwhelmed the building, spinning beneath it slowly. The building began to collapse, being drawn into the immense sinkhole he had created with his powers.

Wolfenstein grabbed Aurai and leaped off the roof, slamming into a nearby building easily. Baldemar and Taika joined them, their eyes wide.

"Jesus Christ that guy's got tough powers," noted the huntress.

"Yeah, but his body has to produce the sand initially," explained Bartholomew, who had landed near them with only slight difficulty. "He can make more sand with the local materials, but if he retracts that sand, he loses control of it. But any wound he takes turns him into sand, and he doesn't bleed. We can't figure it out."

"There's a small Mark on his body you have to hit first," explained Baldemar. "It can be anywhere, but even a scratch will stop his immortality."

"Heh, everything has a weakness," muttered the captain chuckling. "I knew it was good luck to have you guys here."

"Captain, we should retreat!" advised the bandana guy from earlier. "This guy is…!"

"Total cake!" snapped Bartholomew, suddenly getting loud and boisterous. He grinned, planting his hands on his hips. "Come on men! We have him right where we want him! We know his weakness, and we have our new allies here to help us!"

He threw his metal arm over Wolfenstein's shoulder, adding to the drama of his speech. "These men have directly fought the Bellum Empire, and destroyed an ancient Eridian! They have taken on the entire Carnival, up to Jackal Cash! This Noyade here is cannon fodder for them! We can do this my brothers! Now who will join me!?"

"I!" roared his Pirates, impassioned by his speech.

"Then let's kill this asshole already!" yelled Bartholomew grinning. "Charge!"

His Pirates ran forward, their spirits suddenly lifted far higher than they were before. They showed no fear or reluctance to Noyade, charging ahead with abandon.

"You seemed far quieter before," noted Wolfenstein shrugging the man's arm off.

"I was putting up a stoic attitude to appear intimidating to the other competition!" exclaimed Bartholomew. "Can't let the other pirates and brigands know I'm like this, or they'd assume I'm some pushover! In truth, that is nowhere near the case!"

"Well let's put that to the test," said Taika grinning. "I'll scan for his weak spot from here. You all distract him and make him move and expose some areas."

Wolfenstein nodded, shifting half his body into wereskag mode. "I'll get him to dance if you need to. Let's go Bartholomew."

The pirate captain grinned, leaping off the roof. "You follow me Vault Hunters! We march to Valhalla together!"

**[Richard McGuinness] "Well…that was some fast characterization for Bartholomew."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, well, it makes sense. If you were a loud, boisterous idiot, would you want other people to know that and target you because of it?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Naw, I do get what you're saying. I guess as a captain he does have to act like a captain sometimes. Least he's a pretty nice guy underneath that stoic façade."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "True dat. I'm tired of asshole characters in this story. Or characters that aren't assholes but are just cold motherfuckers or hide it with sarcasm. The only true nice people we've had so far are Nitro, Simo Hathcock, and Aurai. Other than that, everyone either is insanely violent, total jerkasses, sarcastic assholes, stoic cold bastards or prideful douchebags."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Can't really deny that."**


	14. Chapter 14: Disappearing Act

Noyade Sable grinned widely as the building sank into the ground, his sand forming a huge sinkhole into the ground. He stood up, materializing his arms as he reached into his pockets. He drew out a cigarillo, placing it into his teeth smoothly.

"Bloody heathens, why do they run so far?" he mused aloud, reaching into his pocket for a lighter. He flicked the lighter and raised it to the cigarillo, lighting the end of it easily. "Damn it, why can't they just accept their death with dignity? I…"

He stopped, the end of his cigarillo having been blown clean off by a bullet, something he noted with annoyance. He glanced to the side, noticing a group of the Lowe Pirates standing to the side, their guns raised against him.

"The first heathen who tells me who shot my cigarillo gets a 10 second head start," stated Noyade spitting out the chunks of his ruined smoke.

They didn't answer, instead fully unloading their magazines at him rapidly. The bullet slammed through his body and caused him to stumble, his figure turning instantly into sand. His arms were blown clean off, several large holes appearing in his torso and abdomen. When they finally stopped, he looked like a huge melted statue, barely standing at all.

Noyade scoffed with whatever remained of his mouth, the sand slowly coming back into place. "You know, God is merciful, but I'm just his servant, so I don't have to be."

He burst into laughter suddenly, flaring out his arms as they melted into sand and snaked towards them. "Go to Hell heathens!"

He suddenly heard a loud noise to his left, something that instantly caught his attention. He turned, seeing an immense ball of air flying at him. It was pushing buildings and ruins out of its way, eating through the ground with its fury. It sounded like a freight train, and he knew it would hit like one.

"Damn it," muttered Noyade before the wind blast hit him, disintegrating his entire body into sand and scattering it everywhere. There wasn't anything left except for his shoes, now planed to the ground with small bits of sand stuck inside.

Bartholomew grinned widely, his metal arm lifted to shoulder level. In the center of his palm was a small hole where the air blast had come from, being charged up inside his body to devastate anything he hit. He was chuckling loudly, amused to no end with the destructive power of his own weapons.

"Bwahahaha, tear it all down! Bwahahaha!" roared the captain immensely pleased. "Fear the might of Gust-Iron Fist Bartholomew, and his Moustache of DOOM! Bwahahaha!"

Wolfenstein raised an eyebrow in amazement, impressed by the display. "That is some ability you have there."

"That was so COOL!" exclaimed Aurai hopping on her feet excitedly. "Can you do it again!?"

"I gotta have your blueprints," stated Baldemar staring at the metal arm in astonishment, his mind already racing with possibilities.

Then they noticed that Noyade's shoes were rapidly filling up, the sand reforming into legs. The rest of his body came back swiftly, his face one of annoyance.

"Damn it heathens, just die already!" roared the dark-skinned man transforming his left arm into a pillar of sand, aiming it towards them as accurately as he could.

Bartholomew dodged the pillar, grunting in anger. "Damn it! Why didn't that work!?"

"The Mark has to be hit before any other damage," replied Wolfenstein. "Your air cannon was effective, but it did not register as an independent hit. You have to hit the Mark first. But we don't know where it is yet, so we just have to distract him."

"Aye! Of course! I can do that easily!"

Noyade fully came back together, looking around rapidly. He was already aiming his revolver at them, then he paused as he began to think critically. He noticed Wolfenstein and Aurai first, narrowing his eyes in thought.

"Huh…you heathens took on Mortem…" murmured the man quietly. "If that's the case, you know how to fight our kind. Huh…"

He grinned, cocking the revolver back. "I don't like those odds!"

He fired once, but his body instantly turned into sand in one shot. They looked around rapidly, then noticed how the sand was flying through the air, similar to a sandstorm. The sand trailed off into the distance, the person retreating without a fight.

"Next time heathens, prepare to die!" taunted Noyade, who was still somehow able to speak despite the fact he was little more than a cloud of dust. "May God have mercy on you when I sweep upon you like death! Kelkelkelkelkel!"

Bartholomew grunted in annoyance. "Damn it. He is crazy, but he is not as foolish as I had assumed."

"Do you think he is the Grave Knight?" inquired Wolfenstein.

"I doubt it. Arlon described a child, and that man is certainly older than a child. And he is far from innocent as well. It is likely he is a Grave Servant of some kind."

The captain sighed. "Damn. Looks like we're back to the hunt."

Suddenly his mood swung, causing him to wrap an arm around Wolfenstein's shoulder. "Thank you for the help honorable Vault Hunters! With your efforts we beat back this enemy into a corner! I cannot express my gratitude enough towards you!"

"Perhaps by letting me go?" inquired the wereskag uncomfortably, mainly since he despised human contact due to his abrasiveness.

"Deal!" said Bartholomew letting him go. "Now, we must be off! The hunt continues! Come my brothers, we ride for blood!"

The Pirates roared their approval as they ran out of the ruined city, already excited to go after their feeling opponent. The captain was right in the front of the crowd, his SMG waving in the air as he ran. It was quite a sight to watch actually.

"…I wanna be a pirate!" exclaimed Aurai, legitimate enthusiasm filling her speech.

"Most people do," commented Wolfenstein dryly. "But being a Vault Hunter is a lot like being a pirate. You loot, you kill, and you get to do incredibly irresponsible things as part of the job."

"But pirates wear HATS! I want a HAT!"

Taika reached into her SDU and materialized another hat like her own, a blatant black sombrero that made anyone instantly look like a desperado. "Well, it isn't a pirate hat, but it's still cool."

She plopped it onto the Siren's head, the hat a near-perfect fit for her head. Aurai glanced up at it, then grinned widely.

"I love it!" she said tugging the hat down onto her head further. "I feel like Billy the Kid! Yippie ki-yay! Call me Seabiscuit! Yahoo!"

Wolfenstein chortled, glancing around at the ruins analytically. "It's not a smart idea to be here. I'll hide our vehicle, and we can use the Fast Travel Station built into it to get back to the Crimson Falcon."

"Awesome," muttered Baldemar grinning, slinging his rifle onto his shoulder relaxed. "I wanted to see Gaige anyway."

"I was running out of cigarettes," commented Taika, lighting her last one with a decisive disdain. "I really should carry more than a pack at a time when we're on missions."

"And I am running out of macaroons!" added Aurai, popping her second-to-last one happily, her cowboy hat still in place.

"I thought Billy the Kid didn't eat macaroons," argued the huntress teasingly, most likely to belittle her teammate.

"Well Aurai the Kid does!" snapped the Siren, chomping down on her final macaroon assertively. Then she realized her mistake, as she was now completely without snacks, and reacted promptly. "D…damn it! That was my last one!"

"Serves ya right," muttered Baldemar quietly, his face accompanied by a small amused smile.


	15. Chapter 15: The Three Kings of Madness

A huge sandstorm flew through the air, an immense cloud shifting and tumbling through the trees. It shredded the bark off the trees, tearing it down into dust easily. It made a loud screaming as it moved, one that sounded eerily human in a way.

The sand stopped at a nearby ruined tower, snaking up to the top easily. It formed a pair of boots on the roof, slowly congregating into a pair of legs. Eventually, it finished into a whole body, one that was perturbed in an extreme manner.

Noyade Sable grunted in annoyance, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "Damn heathens. They made me late."

He looked around, raising an eyebrow. "Heh, looks like I'm not the only one who was late. God is still not here, neither is…"

Suddenly a huge sphere appeared in the distance, smashing through the trees nearby. He glanced at it, smirking widely.

"Kelkelkelkelkel, here he comes," noted Noyade. "Looks like he still doesn't have any subtlety."

The sphere stopped near him, its surface reflective and opaque. Then it spun towards him, a small black rhombus appearing on its surface. Inside the rhombus was a Grave Servant Mark, which was odd considering how it looked completely like glass. Spectral tendrils appeared from the sides of the glass, manifesting themselves into reality easily. It grabbed the rooftop with it, even though it could easily float without it. It appeared similar to a giant floating eye, with tentacles around it for gripping surfaces.

"Noyade. Good to see you," stated the sphere quietly, fairly polite despite being an inanimate object. "Sorry for lateness. Unable to leave work."

_**Daedalus: The Eye of Lunacy**_

"Eh, no problem Daedalus," stated the dark-skinned man absently. "It's still a bit odd to be talking to this surrogate form of yours, but I will get used to it I suppose. How was your research anyway?"

"Human severing point remains…_inconsistent_," said Daedalus slightly annoyed, its 'eye' rolling. "Interesting regardless."

"Really? I was never a man of science myself, but it does not matter."

"I see. Appointment important regardless. Where is our leader?"

"Oh, God? I do not know. He…"

"I am here," stated a figure walking forward calmly, far smaller than the two present. He was wearing a huge light blue jacket over his body, his hood immense. His face was masked in shadows, two orbs inside the darkness acting as makeshift eyes. The figure was short and thin, like a child, and had a voice matching this as well.

Noyade glanced at the boy, his eyes widening. "God…?"

"Yes," answered the boy blankly, not at all bothered by the implications of being labeled as a god. "Good to have you here, my loyal Grave Servants. It appears we are being attacked by numerous mercenary groups who have invaded our forest. Do you all have any information on them?"

Noyade bowed slightly, his eyes averting the young boy's body in any way. "God, I recently battled with some of those mercenaries you spoke of. The Lowe Pirates, the Vault Hunters, and more, have all invaded your holy forest. I tried to destroy them, but they overwhelmed me. Forgive me for my incompetence."

"Numbers exceed competence," argued Daedalus logically. "Skill does little when outnumbered."

"It is no matter Noyade," stated the boy quietly, shuffling his long sleeves. "I did not expect you to sacrifice yourself. Since these invaders are likely to continue, we should get as much information on them so we can counter them. Daedalus, I rely on you for research."

"I see. Research is the prime cornerstone of success," spoke the sphere. "These invaders will be researched personally."

"Thank you Daedalus. Now, Noyade, I still require you to deter the invaders as Daedalus researches them. I…"

Daedalus suddenly turned, the diamond of its eye concentrating into the forest. "I see something."

The boy turned, staring into the forest as well. "Hmm, you are correct. Someone is watching us."

Noyade snarled, adjusting his hair around his neck and shoulders. "God, let me attack him. He dares to be in your presence and spy on you, he does not deserve your mercy."

"Hmm…no. Daedalus, begin your research early."

The sphere nodded slightly, retracting its tendrils into its own body easily. "I see. You may want to step back."

Daedalus aimed its eye at the disturbance, narrowing the rhombus down. A low feminine scream emitted from his body, like a woman being tortured brutally. It was decidedly uncanny, and tore through the forest with its disturbing noise.

Then the sphere exploded in a huge array of black glass spikes, fanning out like a sea urchin. The rhombus glowed bright purple, then emitted a huge laser beam from its core. The woman's scream tripled in volume and pitch, like a final death cry of agony.

"I SEE YOU!" roared Daedalus, its voice incredibly high in volume but low in pitch, like a snarling scream.

The laser tore through the trees rapidly, the heat burning everything in its way. Then it impacted the person it was meant to hit, shredding through his left arm and upper torso like a hot knife through warm butter. The person slammed into the ground, struggling and grasping in pain.

Daedalus flew towards the prone man, its tendrils manifesting themselves and slamming into the ground near the person. Its eye stared into the man's head curiously, studying the pain on his face. The man stared at it terrified, the Grave Servant in front of him nearly impossible to comprehend.

"Melting point 23% higher than normal. Pain threshold 34% lower than normal," noted the sphere analytically, its notes being eerily scientific in nature. "Shield penetration 51% higher than normal. Healing prevention only 3% lower than normal. All information cataloged."

The sphere charged up its laser again, its eye at point-blank range. The scream began again, but it was not high enough to drown the sphere's words.

"Thank you for the information," stated Daedalus ominously.

Then it blew the man's head off, atomizing his body slowly from the head downwards. The dust left behind flew into the wind, the smell of burning flesh coursing along with it.

Noyade chuckled, amused to no end by his comrade. "Kelkelkelkel, he is certainly thorough about his research."

The boy nodded. "Of course. He is a scientist after all. Now, I should be off. I grow bored of such plain trees, though I do not wish to change them just yet. Keep up the good work Noyade."

The dark-skinned man bowed again, his head low. He exposed a small circle on his throat, a Grave Servant Mark over his Adam's apple. "Of course God. I am your faithful servant, and will never disappoint you."

The boy began walking away, then completely disappeared in an instant. No disintegration, no flying, just disappearing. It was actually very creepy, as he did not even have a visual or audio cue that he had left.

Daedalus floated over to Noyade, glancing at him with its large eye. "Must go as well. Research must be done. Goodbye."

"Yes. Goodbye Daedalus. I hope your research goes well."

"Always does," muttered the sphere, slowly flying away into the distance. It went the same direction as it had before, showing no haste or reluctance. It truly was like a machine, or perhaps even an alien with its calm and collected exterior and tone.

And that made it all the more uncanny and frightening to most people, especially its experiments.

******[Richard McGuinness] **"So, wait, is that THING a Grave Servant?"

******[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] **"Daedalus? They're implying that the eye is like an extension of him, with his real body somewhere else."

******[Richard McGuinness] **"Oh. Why does it have the Mark on it?"

******[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] **"Maybe that's how he controls it? Who knows? You can ask him later when we meet him during the story."


	16. Chapter 16: Sanitarium

The sanitarium lay quiet in the middle of the forest, rather surprising considering its odd location. It looked partially abandoned, several portions of the buildings collapsed or damage in some way, the rest of them worn by time and decay. Despite this, patrolling outside the building was a group of guards, about ten in total. They all wore makeshift uniforms made of blue raincoats, the hoods over their heads with black masks on their faces. It looked odd, but they were definitely trained personnel due to their firearms and armor.

"This must be some kind of stronghold," noted Wolfenstein, sniffing the air as he talked. "Those people are some kind of undead, though their scent is not unique at all compared to Noyade. I can smell him in the building, along with…"

He took a hard whiff. "Something that smells like burning metal. And…"

He raised an eyebrow, taking an extremely deep sniff. "…and sugar. Something sugary."

Aurai perked up, suddenly interesting. "Like what? Marshmallows, snicker doodles, ice cream?"

He snarled, the taste disturbing and unnatural. "Not like that. This is…odd. Like carpet cleaner…or something. It is not natural."

"Well, that might be our Grave Knight," predicted Taika. "Is it the strongest scent there?"

"Definitely. It's overwhelming. God, I hate smelling it."

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Heh, I just smell onion rings."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Sorry, that was me."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Damn it Rich!"**

"Mmm, yes, very odd indeed," agreed a voice to the side.

They all turned and drew their weapons, aiming at the voice.

Simo Hathcock jumped, having been hidden inside a bush, and turned to face the same direction they were pointing. "Ah! What's behind me?! What's behind me?!"

"We're aiming at you, you idiot!" snapped Taika.

"Oh. Why are you doing that?"

Baldemar rolled his eyes. "You snuck up on us."

"Really? I've been here for ten minutes."

Wolfenstein snarled. "Damn it. My nose is getting weaker, or you don't have a scent. I dislike either option."

Simo chuckled, sitting down nearby. His sunglasses were positioned onto his eyes to protect them from the intense sunlight, the shades colored a deep yellow color. A huge grey sniper rifle was strapped to his back, loaded with what looked like Slag bullets. He still had that stupid expression on his face, one commonly known as the 'nice guy smile'.

"Well, this place looks pretty locked up," commented the nice guy glancing at the sanitarium, ignoring the past comments they had about his sneakiness. "I've been here for a few days scouting it out. Been living on ramen noodles for most of it, but that's fine, I like ramen. Either way, this place doesn't have guard rotations or even routes for them to travel. I've watched those guys stand in those exact spot for days on end, and they don't even twitch unless a squirrel or rabbit comes by. They aren't human."

He pulled out a small cup of instant ramen, sipping the broth leisurely. "No secret entrances, no openings, just a front door. Gotta say, it's pretty airtight."

"What about underground?" inquired Wolfenstein, now no longer caring about this man's lack of scent. He had intel, he was important. "Perhaps a sewer system or tunnels?"

"Due to its far-off location, it'd need a water reservoir to deal with the excrement," murmured Simo analytically, using two chopsticks to pull a small boiled piece of pork from his ramen. "There isn't even a puddle for five miles around here. I've also checked the ground in that same radius for hidden holes and openings to some underground tunnel. Nothing exists. As tight as a pickle jar."

He grinned, instantly brightening his mood. "But hey, it's pretty cool looking right?"

Wolfenstein glanced at him oddly. The man wasn't normal, that much was certain. A professional would express annoyance or even blood thirst at the prospect before them, but this man had an odd innocent euphoria towards damn never everything. Humorously, he found it unsettling in every regard, not used to this kind of reaction from people.

"If you are a sniper, we require your assistance," stated Baldemar. "We'll split the rewards 50/50. Sound good to you?"

Simo nodded, slurping up a noodle. "Yeah, just let me finish my ramen."

He then gulped down the hot broth, condensing the cup with his palms. Sliding the now-flat cup into his pouch, he grabbed his sniper rifle and placed it against his shoulder. Crouching down, he aimed through the scope at his first target.

"Sorry buddy," he said pulling the trigger.

The guard collapsed as his knee instantly shattered, smashing into the ground in pain. Two of his buddies swiftly followed, the same injury occurring to them.

One of the snipers instantly figured his location and aimed at him, but Simo calmly shot him in the rifle, blowing it to pieces and covering him with the fragments. Doing the same to the other sniper, he then took out the rest of the guards with knee-shots.

When it was all done, the entire group of ten guards was on the ground, rolling in pain from the shots. He had not killed a single one, but they were definitely not going anywhere anytime soon.

"They'll live," he said with slight undertones of relief, reloading his rifle calmly. "Let's get going shall we?"

* * *

The lobby of the sanitarium was covered in plastic, the furniture and decorations clean beneath it. A layer of dust covered this plastic coating, but the things underneath were completely unaffected by the dirt or grime.

On top of this coating, besides the dust, were papers. Papers covered nearly every surface, even the floor and ceiling, the scribbles on the surface incomprehensible to any of the Vault Hunters. Certain ones were just paragraphs on top of paragraphs, while others were odd charts or diagrams. It looked like the ravings of a mad English teacher, though the teacher didn't speak English and may not have been mad but instead may have just gotten a real itch to write a lot.

**[Richard McGuinness] "Well, there goes that metaphor."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yep. Metaphorgotten I think."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Oh God, don't throw a pun at us. What did we ever do to you?"**

Simo paused, finding a large set of double doors at the end of the room. He glanced through them, tipping his yellow shades off his eyes.

"Eh, pitch dark," he murmured. He pulled out a flashlight, flicking the top of it and gazing through the slots in the door. "Well…looks like some kind of surgery room. Wait, why would a sanitarium have a surgery room?"

They all heard a long growl coursing through the sanitarium, almost like an engine in a way. They raised their weapons, forming into a circle to scan every direction.

"I smell gasoline," noted Wolfenstein. "Also…rum. Lots and lots of rum."

Simo chuckled, apparently knowing what was going on. "Heh, so it looks like my old friend finally showed up."

A huge explosion coursed through the building, a nearby wall blasting clean open and crumbling away. A large cloud of dust filled the air, causing everyone to cough and sputter as it filled their lungs. When it cleared, a huge shape was standing in the middle of the hole, one that looked fairly odd even when compared to half the shit that went down on this planet.

The shape consisted of a motorcycle and its rider, the combination of both of them similar to an elephant in size. The motorcycle itself had wheels like a truck, the handle bars nearly five feet off the ground and a foot in width. It was heavily armored and armed, with massive steel plates in the front and sides with machine guns and rocket launchers attached in the spaces. A large skull with an eye patch and pirate hat sat in the middle of the handlebars, like a trophy or accessory. The rider was none other than Captain Bartholomew Lowe, hefting another massive SMG along with him.

Bartholomew whooped with joy, sliding off his bike easily despite his metal boot. "Hot damn that was awesome! I knew this bike I built out of scrap in my cargo deck would work! Scrap always works, just look at my arm and leg! Kinda grateful the damn thing didn't blow up though, considering how many rockets and fuel I had aboard…anyway, it worked!"

He paused, glancing at the group of staring people curiously. "Huh? You guys again?! What a pleasant surprise! Why are you here?"

"To take down a Grave Knight," stated Wolfenstein. "We figured this place must be important, if it was guarded and in the middle of nowhere."

"Aye, very good thinking!" complimented Bartholomew. "I only got here since my navigator traced that coward Noyade here with my Ultra-Super-Sensor-2000 that I made from a toaster oven and a hairbrush, and a DNA scanner!"

Simo chuckled, stepping forward with outstretched arms. "Hey Bartholomew! It's so good to see you again."

The captain returned the gesture, hugging the smaller man warmly. "Ah, Simo! Good to find you here! You work with the Vault Hunters too?! Perfect! We are a six-man team of awesomeness! With the Vault Hunters' skills, your sniping ability, and my AMAZING MUSTACHE OF DOOM, WE SHALL NOT BE DEFEATED!"

Wolfenstein snarled, grabbing their shoulders roughly. "Both of you, shut it. Can't you hear that?"

They all grew silent, finally picking up the noise he had been talking about. It sounded like a woman crying, a low, disturbing noise that sent chills down the spine. It seemed to come from everywhere too, going through the walls with ease.

Simo turned, glancing through the double doors from earlier. His eyes widened, apparently having noticed something.

"Get down!" he snapped loudly, grabbing Baldemar and throwing him to the floor.

"I SEE YOU!"

A huge laser blasted through the double doors, boiling it away with ease. The Vault Hunters rapidly ducked out of the way, the laser moving right over them narrowly.

Then it stopped, a large sphere appearing through the doors. It crouched down near them, a large rhombus on its surface staring at them.

"Subjects dodged," noted Daedalus blankly, its large tendrils gripping the floor to keep it balance. "No matter."

It leaped away, readying its laser again. It fanned outwards like a sea urchin, the central rhombus charging up to attack. The scream came back, now incredibly loud to its close proximity to them.

Simo instantly turned, a pebble clenched in his fist. He threw it at Daedalus, his face in a deadly mask of calm.

The bullet slammed into the Grave Servant Mark, shattering the glass-like structure of its eye easily. Daedalus screamed in pain, purple energy overflowing from its body. It moved away in a stumble, colliding with the walls and furniture in its thralls. It finally collapsed to the floor, bleeding purple blood across the papers that lay there.

Simo sighed, standing up with heavy panting. He chuckled lowly, dryly looking at the corpse of the Grave Servant. "Well…sorry man. Looks like I got carried away and killed you. Oh well, guess it's not my fault you snuck up on me. Don't stop me from feeling bad though."

Bartholomew laughed, standing back up after having dodged the deadly laser. "Hot damn! Nice shot Simo!"

The blonde man shook the dust out of his hair, nodding. "Yeah, it was a decent shot. Now, if that is…"

A huge wall of sand flew through the double doors and overwhelmed them, moving like a cloud around them. They all backed up into each other again, making a circle of firearms to protect their group.

The sand configured on top of the body of Daedalus, forming a crouching tall figure. The figure was laughing lowly, bemused by the corpse under him.

"Kelkelkelkelkel, one shot did your Eye in, Daedalus," murmured Noyade Sable, prying out the pebble that had destroyed the Grave Servant Mark. He rolled it in his hand, chuckling lowly. "Kelkelkel, how embarrassing. I thought this was your ultimate creation."

A pillar of fire spawned in the room, barreling through the ceiling from upstairs. A figure stepped out of the pillar, one wearing a black hoodie over his thin body, the sleeves burned away completely. His pants were flamboyant bright yellow, the ends tucked into a pair of sneakers. His right eye appeared to be burning in his skull, the iris actually glowing bright orange in his head. The other eye was covered in bandages, small trickles of blood leaking from underneath. His lips were charred and missing, revealing sharp canine teeth that were burnt black in his head. He was panting flames from his mouth, even though his breathing rate was relatively calm.

_**Daedalus: The Fire of Lunacy**_

Daedalus crouched down beside the Eye, glancing at the entry wound curiously. "Weak point obvious, defeat expected."

He grabbed the bandages around his left eye, adjusting them even as it bled ferociously. "Data already received. Proper combat advantageous."

Noyade beamed, thrilled by the news. "Kelkelkel, good. We can teach these heathens what it means to mess with God's holy temple. We will not show mercy."

Daedalus nodded, standing up straight and dusting himself off. "Yes. Let us begin."

******[Richard McGuinness] **"Wait, that thing wasn't Daedalus?"

******[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] **"Of course it wasn't you idiot. Didn't you pay attention?"

******[Richard McGuinness] **"Why would I do that?"

******[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] **"Ugh, sometimes I really wonder why you're still here."


	17. Chapter 17: Fire and Sand

Taika crouched behind the cover, throwing her spent cigarette away from her. She grunted as she slid new bullets into her gun, several scorch marks around the surgical gurney she was using for cover.

"Damn it this Daedalus guy is a real pain in the dick," muttered the huntress blankly. "He can shoot through our defenses and doesn't stick his head out unless he's shooting. There's no flanking, and I can't get a shot in since he's usually aiming for me."

Simo nodded, his shades covering his eyes despite the fact he was inside. "He is a very interesting opponent. He…"

A huge laser beam smacked into the pillar beside him, nearly taking his head off. He grunted, chuckling lowly. "Wow. He's a good shot too."

Daedalus ducked back into his piece of cover, a large concrete pillar at the end of the surgical room from inside the sanitarium. He had the rather inconvenient power to fire laser beams from his hands, and by inconvenient I mean inconvenient for the Vault Hunters fighting him. The laser beams were actually very convenient for him, as they melted through pretty much everything in its way.

"No targets made contact with," noted the scientist twirling his fingers together, small remnants of his last laser beam on the ends. Like Noyade, he had control over a specific element or substance, his being heat apparently. Smoke was trailing from his hands, the heat not bothering his flesh at all. "Must attempt new strategies."

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "It's a good thing we explained his power in narration, that way he doesn't have to himself with dialogue. That's really annoying and illogical, you know, when a villain explains their powers to the heroes."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "True dat. If you had water powers, would you tell people that? If you did, they'd already know that your powers are weak to electricity and grass and shit like that."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "This isn't Pokémon you idiot. Water would be weak to ice instead."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Well fuck you, I was a Squirtle kinda guy."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Oh, squirting? I love that in a woman."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "…God, don't bring sex into yet another conversation. What were we talking about?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "No idea."**

He glanced to the side, then fired one of the lasers at a mirror. It bounced off and slammed into Baldemar, splitting his upper torso completely in half.

Then the Baldemar revealed that it exploded instead of fading into data like normal people would die. That meant it was a Combat Clone, not the real one. Which could only mean…

The scientist whirled to the side, his eyes widening in fear.

Baldemar glanced at him with a huge grin on his face, his assault rifle up to bar. He fired, the bullets shredding through the Grave Servant's upper torso and right arm.

Daedalus leaped to the ceiling, clutching at it with his left arm, the right side of his body hanging only by a few stray tendons. It was melting back into place, similar to wax in a way, obviously from his heat-based powers.

Then a large blue orb slammed into his body, disintegrating into static electricity on contact. He grunted in pain, falling to the ground in a puddle-like state. He tried to regenerate, but his body would not come back together, the orb doing some odd damage to him over time.

Simo was standing out of cover, two other small orbs floating around him. He was glaring at his opponent coldly, his face like a mask of stoicism compared to his normal happy look.

"Those orbs will damage you constantly as long as they remain," stated the sniper calmly. "They are a malicious, constant threat. When I bring these out, it's my vow that I will kill you."

Daedalus stood up, his torso nearly in half vertically. He reached to the side and grabbed some belts off a gurney. Tightening the belts across his torso like a strap, he plastered his right and left side together, the flesh coming back together now that it the sides were closer.

"I see," stated the scientist blankly, noting the dire circumstance he was in. Raising his right arm, he charged a large red orb in his grip. Tossing it forward, it slammed into the pillar Simo was hiding behind, flashing before detonating, melting everything within five meters, the sniper included.

Simo flew backwards, sliding across the ground, his left arm completely severed and half his face melted. He was not bleeding though, his flesh easily growing back into place. It was similar to Wolfenstein's regeneration, but had bits of static electricity instead of blood and fur.

"My orbs also are meant to heal," admitted the sniper smiling gently. "I'm only telling you this to give you a chance against me. I like a fair fight."

Daedalus grunted in exasperation, annoyed by his opponent's nonchalant attitude towards their fight. "…I see. Grown tired of associating with subjects. Termination of subjects imminent."

He snapped his neck back into shape, adjusting his hoodie as well. "Prepare to die."

* * *

Wolfenstein leaped out of the hole in the wall, his entire back shredded to pieces and covered in bits of sand. He landed easily, his wounds not regenerating as fast as they should due to the minerals he had taken from his opponent. The sand was wearing into his bloodstream and body, making it near impossible to return to his normal state through his passive healing.

Bartholomew and Aurai quickly joined him, reloading their weapons as they did so. They had separated the two Grave Servants from each other to make it easier to kill each one individually, but that also meant they had less firepower to fight against each one.

Noyade walked out of the hole in the wall with a huge grin on his face, chuckling with that distinctive chortle that sounded like kill. He slid in new bullets into his revolver, his body slowly reforming itself from nearby sand.

"Kelkelkelkel, you all underestimate us Grave Servants," noted the dark-skinned man adjusting his Hawaiian shirt. "Fighting someone like Solomon probably made you think we're all a bunch of idiots, and Mortem is cannon fodder compared to other Grave Knights."

Bartholomew raised his mechanical arm, curling up his hand to reveal the hole in his palm. "Incorrect!"

A huge cannon shot of air blasted through the air, blasting Noyade into thousands of particles of sand. It did the same thing to the building behind him, mowing through that room of the sanitarium like it was made of cardboard.

"I personally find you to be a very worthy opponent!" yelled the pirate grinning widely, opening a small compartment in his arm. Sliding out a large red cylinder, he pushed in a new glowing cylinder into the slot and closed the breach. Obviously this was the ammunition for his arm cannon, as no one explanation could be given to why it was there. "However, I will not bow down in front of any opponent! I am Captain Bartholomew Lowe, leader of the Lowe Pirates, one of the most feared crews in the universe! I have the tenth highest bounty in the entire universe! I have razed entire planets with my might!"

Noyade reformed himself neatly, grunting in exasperation. "Heh, I knew you were famous. Well then…"

He disappeared into a cloud of sand, flying around them rapidly. Bullets suddenly appeared from nowhere, narrowly missing them. It appeared Noyade was capable of firing his revolver even in cloud form, which needless to say was completely unfair.

Aurai shot at the cloud with her pistol, but only got a bullet to the shoulder in response. She narrowed her eyes, getting annoyed rapidly.

"Damn it, we can't hit him when he's like this," noted the Siren annoyed.

Wolfenstein nodded, his body still bleeding from the sand inside of it. "Yeah…I can't hit something that isn't solid."

Bartholomew paused, then suddenly got an idea. He pulled out a small propane tank from his pocket and unscrewed the lid, releasing the gas around him, Throwing the tank down, he pulled out a lighter and began to run. The other two Vault Hunters immediately got the idea and ran to cover, hoping to find something that would prevent them from dying.

"Boom!" yelled the pirate flicking the lighter, tossing it back into the space where the propane had been released.

The gas detonated rapidly, scorching the ground and filling the air with fire. Noyade, who was still made of sand at the moment, roared in pain as the flames superheated his body back into solid form.

The fire stopped, revealing Noyade's full body. His right arm had been transformed into glass, the limb wrapped unnaturally in a spiral down past his knees from melting slightly. He gasped and panted, his lungs probably scorched as well.

"Damn heathens…" he murmured grasping at the shoulder joint, where his arm was still sand. He squeezed the limb tightly, severing the glass from his arm. It slammed into the dirt and shattered, not returning to sand at all.

"I won't die…" he whispered angrily, sand still pouring from his self-inflicted wound. "I won't die… not from you…"

He glared up at them, raising his revolver to eye level. "I won't die from you goddamn heathens in the presence of my God!"

* * *

Baldemar glanced around the corner, Daedalus now moving around the surgical room to shoot at them. He was also using the mirrors around the room to get unpredictable shots on them, with even broken mirrors sufficing for his purposes. It was very frustrating, as none of them could think of a good strategy against the aggressive Grave Servant.

"Have you found his weak spot yet?" inquired the inventor to his teammates, both of which were professional marksmen.

"I think I got a glimpse of it," murmured Taika. "I think the Mark might be on his right shoulder from when Simo split him in half, but it's hard to pinpoint."

"I can get it," said Simo backing up and crouching down. "Distract him with something."

"You really are scary when you want to kill someone," muttered the huntress quietly.

The sniper said nothing, aiming through his rifle readying to fire the shot. He didn't appear to have a problem aiming through a half-melted pair of sunglasses, even with his aiming eye exposed completely to the open air.

Baldemar nodded, activating his Combat Clone again. "I'll see if I can't take some of the covering off his arm to help your shot."

Daedalus stopped in his tread as Baldemar charged at him, a shotgun in hand. Looking over the shoulder of the person, he noticed another identical Baldemar behind that one, one aiming an assault rifle.

"Obvious," murmured the scientist. "First one is Combat Clone to distract. Second one is real one to shoot. Far too obvious."

He fired at the far away one, blasting a hole clean through it. Then it exploded, revealing that it was a Combat Clone. His eyes widened in shock.

"What!? Then that means…!"

The real Baldemar, which was the one up close with a shotgun, bashed the scientist in the face with the butt of the gun. Grasping at the scientist's clothing, he ripped it off with a mighty pull. The flesh of the Grave Servant's arm was extremely pale and stitched together violently, like an experimental cadaver. Over the collarbone near his right shoulder was a Grave Servant Mark, the only untouched portion of his body actually.

Daedalus's eyes widened in fear, backing up. He knew what that meant. They could see his weak spot, and it was obvious what they would do with that knowledge.

Simo fired once, the bullet tearing through the rotten flesh of the Grave Servant. Real blood flew from his body, causing the scientist to gasp.

"Shit!" snapped Daedalus terrified. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! I gotta…!"

"…die," finished the sniper coldly, firing again.

The bullet slammed into Daedalus's head, ending his life instantly. He collapsed onto the ground, no dramatic words or comments having been made. Even being a Grave Servant could not stop him from being just another organism that dies.

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "That was depressingly nihilistic."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Real life is depressingly nihilistic. You get used to it after a while."**

* * *

Noyade reloaded his revolver rapidly, using a tendril of sand in place of his regular reloading arm. Snapping it shut, he kept firing, sprinting around the courtyard to dodge his attackers.

Bartholomew fired his SMG one-handed at the man, the bullets hitting either nothing or the sand body, doing absolutely nothing against him. He grunted, slapping in a new magazine with his huge mechanical arm.

"I don't have any more propane, and incendiary weapons do not have the glassing effect," noted the captain lowly, annoyed so much he had dropped his loud voice. "There must be something we can do."

Wolfenstein joined him, his pistols already empty. "I possess no extreme explosives. Aurai, what about you?"

The Siren paused, then grinned widely. "I got an idea! I guess learned this trick the other day actually!"

She stepped forward, raising her right hand. "I think I'll cook you well done."

She snapped her fingers.

Her Phasetwist manifested itself into the world, but this time appeared to be on fire. It was glowing bright pink and purple from the flames eating away in the wind, scorching the grass and dirt underneath it and heating the air around them even from so far away.

Noyade's eyes widened, knowing that the thing in front of him was bad news. He sprinted into the sanitarium, exposing something on the back of his neck. A Grave Servant Mark.

Wolfenstein fired, knocking the Grave Servant off his feet as the bullet hit the Mark.

Noyade slammed into the floor, gasping in pain. Then the fire tornado enveloped him, the flames eating at his body. It was still made of sand though, but that did little as it began to turn into glass. This time, he could feel it happening, every individual cell melting into the other one, all the way down to the bones.

He screamed and struggled to get out of the tornado, though his legs had already turned into molten glass. He crawled out of the ring, his right arm doing the same thing. He stared in horror as his gun slipped from his fingers in a pool of his own molten body, now no longer able to fight back. He tried to breathe, but his lungs were welded into his ribcage from the heat.

"Damn it…I'm…dying…" he grunted angrily. "I…I failed…"

"Yes, you did," said a voice nearby.

He looked up, noticing a young boy standing in front of him. The boy was wearing a blue rain jacket, his face covered in shadows with two piercing blue orbs for eyes.

Then the boy took off his hood, the shadows disappearing as well. Black locks of fuzzy hair exposed themselves, a pair of stunning blue eyes appearing as well. The face was smooth and innocent, a small smile present on the child's face. Even still, he did not move at all, making no gesture to help the man.

_**Mir Vorstelle: The Child of Madness**_

"God!" exclaimed Noyade with wide eyes. "I…It's so good that you're here! Please…please help me! I…I failed, but please forgive me! I…I can still fight! I did not…I did not meant to be defeated! I can fix this! Just…please forgive me!"

"I forgive you," stated the boy calmly. "I completely forgive you. Your sins are wiped clean."

Noyade began to cry softly, his heart filled with joy. "God…thank you! I will make this up to you, I promise! I…!"

"But I was never angry or disappointed in you to begin with," explained the boy moving a lock of hair from his face. "You see…I felt nothing for you. You are nothing to me."

Noyade paused, tears still pouring from his eyes. "God…what are you saying? If…if this is because I failed, I truly repent with all of my heart! You…please do not punish me!"

The boy grinned maliciously, his eyes sparkling with insanity. "I wonder…what would happen if you simply didn't exist?"

Noyade gasped, staring at his hand in horror. It was fading into stardust, small sparks flying as he faded into the wind. He looked at the boy in the face, his tears turning into sobs.

"God…Mir…why?" begged the Grave Servant pitifully. "Why…?"

"That's what you don't seem to get," said Mir blankly, his grin still in place as he watched his subordinate fade into nothingness. "There is no 'Why' in this world, or in my actions. I did it because it amused me. Goodbye Noyade. Say hello to Daedalus for me."

Noyade faded completely into nothingness, leaving the boy alone with the Vault Hunters.

Taika appeared suddenly, holding her sniper rifle in her grip. "Yo Wolfenstein, we finished out fight. Where's…?"

She paused, glancing at the small boy curiously. "Who the hell is that? Where's Noyade?"

Wolfenstein backed up, his eyes wide in terror. The others were shocked by his reaction, the usually stoic wereskag never showing fear normally.

"That boy…made Noyade stop existing…" muttered the wereskag. "It was like…he imagined it, and it came to life."

Mir grinned, licking his lips absently. "Good guess. Specifically, I am the Grave Knight of madness in service of our Lord Cassius, with the power 'to create'. Or in certain circumstances, to uncreate things. Hmm…"

He cupped his face, his eyes flashing. "I wonder…what if your arm was made of ice cream? It is a hot day after all…if that is the case, wouldn't your arm melt very easily?"

Wolfenstein glanced at his right arm, noting how it was pooling into the floor, everything from the shoulder down liquid. His eyes widened, turning to his comrades rapidly.

"Get going!" he ordered, grabbing Aurai by the collar. "We can't fight someone like that!"

The Vault Hunters sprinted away from the building, Simo and Bartholomew joining behind them as fast as their legs could carry them. There was no denying the panic in their steps or eyes, the sheer power of the boy behind them too terrible to consider.

Mir giggled lowly, bemused by their retreat. "Oh well, they got away. I guess I did poorly. Well, nothing I can do. They'll come back. They're too insane to consider another option. And when they do…"

He grinned, so wide it looked like it would split his face clean in too. "…I'll play for real."

**[Richard McGuinness] "Holy SHIT! The hell was that?!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "That is the next target our brave protagonists will be fighting."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "What the FUCK!? He killed one of his own guys for NO REASON AT ALL!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, he's pretty awful, even with this story's standards for villains."**

* * *

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well we finally got some more Q&A, though the lack of it probably has to due with how young this story is at the moment."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "True. We write 100,000 word stories, this one is like…I don't know, 4 years old right now compared to the others. What's the questions?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well the first one Is from JcD325, one of the few guys who leaves questions for us, which we appreciate a lot, and here it is: 'what makes Bellum so special?'"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "In the context of the question, he means by their guns. Bellum guns, like Jakobs, have insanely high damage, and like Vladof they have kickass fire rate. The problem is, Bellum has crap accuracy and reload speed, meaning they're meant to shred everything in their way but not meant for sustained assaults."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Sound familiar Rich?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Uh…not really."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Really, nothing? Sustained assaults? You couldn't get a sex reference from that? You really are an idiot."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "No, I'm not just a perverted try-hard!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Ouch, that one hurt. Either way, next question, same guy: 'what brand of guns does Wolfenstein use?'. Well let's call that SOB up. Let's hope he's not too tired from running away this chapter."**

**[Wolfenstein] "Hello? Who is this?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "It's us again homie! Wat up?!"**

**[Wolfenstein] "It appears you all are still in possession of my cellular number. I must change it immediately."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Damn, is everyone in a pissy mood today? Whatever, listen, you know the question, answer it."**

**[Wolfenstein] "Fine. I prefer using Jakobs and Hyperion weapons due to their superior accuracy in combat, as I prefer hitting my targets for high damage. My types of weapons include only pistols and sniper rifles, as anything closer will be terminated efficiently with my claws. Does that answer the question?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, and also…"**

**[Wolfenstein] "No, I am not dating anyone and I do not plan to. I grow tired of people pairing me with others. Cease that activity immediately. "**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Ah, that sucks. You'd make an awesome husband."**

**[Wolfenstein] "Irrelevant. Goodbye."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Well now he's gone. Thanks for creeping out our guest again Scott."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Go fuck yourself! Whatever, next question, same source: 'And Mortenstein?'. Uh…using the context of the question…oh, he's asking what kind of guns Mortem uses. This should be interesting. Don't tell Wolfenstein he just subconsciously paired him up with Mortem."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Lips are sealed dude."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Okay, I got her on the line. Hey baby girl, Roundhouse Plumbing Services, unclogging pipes better than the rest and longer than the rest!"**

**[Mortem] "Oh really? I need a pipe that needs unclogging…it's really backed up and deep, and only a big, strong plumber can help…"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "I think I can help ma'am. Just shoot me your address…"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "For the love of God ask the question ya horn-dog!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Ah, you don't let me have any fun at all! Fine. Listen Mortem, what kind of guns do you want?"**

**[Mortem] "Oh, getting right to the tip? I like that in a man, even women in some circumstances. Well, I prefer a good Maliwan. The slick curves, the hot melting core, the way it shudders in your hand when you let it go all out…it's amazing in the right places."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Oh God I just nose-bled all over my laptop."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Pervert."**

**[Mortem] "As for gun types, I like an SMG. It's compact, fits in all the right places, and can be used by bad little girls like me with ease. If It's too big, it'll break me, and…well…nothing's too small for a bad girl."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Ugh…Rich…call 911. A man cannot physically shed this much blood without dying."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Fine, ya perv. God, thanks for answering the questions Mortem. Now I gotta take my partner to the ER for fatal nosebleeding, again."**

**[Mortem] "No problem. Just call when you need another service from me again. I'm glad to help."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Goodbye. Listen audience, keep asking questions so we can answer them. Later losers."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Ugh…tatty bye…oh God I think I really am dying…"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Stop being a baby! By the way, we don't answer rhetorical questions. So metimesthree, that ramen question you asked? Rhetorical, everyone likes ramen. Period. If you hate ramen, you haven't tried the right one yet. It's like anime and porn. Again, later losers."**


	18. Chapter 18: Grey-Dog Killer

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the fuck happened? Something's different."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "We got rewritten you idiot. This chapter got revised."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Why?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Well…you remember that part we had with Dion?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "We got rid of it?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Huh? Why?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Ugh, just roll with it. I'll explain it later."**

Lilith raised her eyebrows as she scanned the report, tapping a pencil into her desk as she read. "Hmm…the ability to create and destroy any object at will? That's pretty damn scary. By the way Wolfenstein, is your arm chocolate or vanilla?"

The wereskag glared at her annoyed. "My arm has grown back. Clearing a mile from the sanitarium made my arm turn into flesh and blood again, which began to regenerate as usual. But that boy's powers are far too potent for us to take on alone. Even with Bartholomew Lowe and Simo Hathcock, it is unlikely we would be able to kill him."

"Correct," agreed Grave Lord Arlon, who was broadcasting from his planet into the meeting room of the Crimson Falcon, his face filling the computer screen. "Mir Vorstelle's ability is 'to create' which is connected to his imagination. And since he is the Grave Knight of Madness, his mind does not think in normal ways. He is completely depraved, to the point where I would not accept his surrender, unlike most of the other traitors."

"Making a subordinate stop existing is pretty damn evil," commented Baskerville, leaning back in his chair casually. "But making anything come to life is something most people can't fight against. Why don't we nuke that son of a bitch?"

Arlon shook his head. "Mir would see that coming a mile away and turn your nuke into a stuffed animal. He may be insane, but he's not stupid."

"Then how do we kill him?" inquired Lilith.

The Grave Lord shrugged. "I don't know."

Baskerville snickered. "You listed these guys in order of difficulty, and you don't even know how to kill a guy this low-ranked? That's some bullshit."

Arlon narrowed his eyes. "I listed him in such a low position because he's completely fucking insane. He doesn't have strategy or goals. I'm not even sure how Cassius managed to get him to change sides. Hmm…"

He paused, stroking his chin with a frozen gauntlet. "I will discuss this with my daughter. Perhaps she has information she collected during her rebellion that could be useful."

"Why are you helping us?" inquired Lilith. "I thought you were neutral to humans."

"I am," he answered blankly. "I am doing this same thing with other groups. I want Cassius and everyone who works for him on the gallows as soon as possible, so helping humans is the best way to accomplish it. You all are simply the closest to achieving that goal. I hold no compassion to any of you."

"The feeling is mutual," muttered Baskerville dryly.

Arlon hung up, leaving the Crimson Raiders alone in the meeting room. Lilith sighed, leaning back in her chair.

"Well, we can't attack someone like that without a plan," she stated relaxed, putting her hands behind her head as well. "I guess everyone has a bit of shore leave for now."

"Yeah, figured they needed it," added Axton, who was already smoking a cigarette in the corner. "Hey, Wolfenstein, maybe you can hang out with that piece of ass you collected on the planet, Arlon's baby girl? I bet she'd love to see ya again."

The wereskag snarled in anger. "I hold no attraction to her. I do not feel sexual lust. Stop assuming I am so human."

"Hey, no need to be nasty. Just saying." Axton grinned slyly, clearly pleased with himself for pissing off the normally stoic wereskag.

* * *

"Yarr harr, another round on Captain Lowe!" roared Bartholomew throwing a huge mug of rum skyward, the beverage partially spilling onto his arm in celebration. He belched loudly, before pouring more of the concoction down his throat.

Baldemar grinned, his own drink in his hand. "God, I outta party with pirates more often. You guys know how to party!"

"Bullshit!" snapped the captain. "We pirates know how to LIVE! Though I ain't accepting applications right now! Ha, ha!"

Simo chuckled lowly, a cup of milk in front of him instead of an alcoholic beverage. "Yes, well, Bartholomew is a pirate after all. They are party animals. It's a lot of fun being around them."

The inventor sipped his beverage, settling into business mode. He had brought them to Mad Moxxi's bar on the Crimson Falcon due to being comrades in their last fight, but they were not permanent allies. Not yet anyway. "Now, what are you guys going to do? We could use your help against this Mir guy. No pressure of course. We're willing to split the loot, same as before."

The sniper smirked, lying back in the booth. "I wasn't planning on leaving. I consider you my friends, and I tend to help them. What say you Bartholomew?"

The captain grinned widely, throwing an arm over Baldemar's shoulder. "Hell, I ain't one to turn from my friends! But listen, we gonna need more bodies for this guy. I may be drunk, but I ain't stupid. Mir is one tough sonofabitch, and…and stuff!"

Simo nodded. "He is correct. Mir is a potent enemy to face, even with numbers. Unfortunately, it would be inadvisable to send too many people. I have no doubts he is able to detect us, as he probably has his location locked down. If we have less people in our group, we can more easily form a plan around him."

Baldemar sipped his beer, rubbing his chin in thought. "So we need only a few more specialized units that can fight nearly anything a homicidal teenager could conjure up. Any ideas?"

Bartholomew and Simo looked at each other, seemingly sharing one thought. The sniper spoke up.

"We…uh…let me give a bit of background. Me and Bartholomew are part of the Brethren Syndicate, or the Disciples of Sodom if you want to be dramatic. We are the top 12 bounties across the entire universe, each one ranked according to how high the bounty is. We each have a nickname suited to our abilities and personalities, mainly since we don't like dealing with first names in our line of work. In order, they are: Grey-Dog Killer, Lucky Bitch, Red Death or myself, Demon of Song, Supernova, Grandmaster, Marshall, Dead Komodo, Bleeding Melancholy, Wicked Cain, Fire-Starter, and Bartholomew to my side as Gust-Iron Fist."

"Yeah, I've heard about you guys," stated Baldemar nodding. "But I heard two of you defected to the Universal Government some time ago…"

"That was Demon of Song and Marshall, the bastards!" roared Bartholomew, clearly enraged. "We only kept their spots since we haven't found suitable replacements for them! I can't wait to find them so I can take their heads for what they did!"

Simo nodded, clearly agreeing with his friend's statement. "Yes, but we do have an ally we can bring. He…well…he's a little crazy in all honesty. He's not in the Syndicate either. But he can fight damn near anything with his special ability."

The inventor raised an eyebrow, impressed by the boast. "Really? What could he do that would fight literally anything? Remember, Mir turned Wolfenstein's arm into fucking ice cream."

Bartholomew burst into laughter. "Are you kidding?! This guy can wipe the floor with anything you bring him up against! He is an invaluable asset to our Syndicate, even if he is not a part of the twelve top members!"

Baldemar shrugged, picking up his beer. "Eh, the more the merrier I guess. Bring him. But for now, let's party!"

"Aye!" yelled the captain clacking his glass into the inventor's. "Come on! I still got a few drinks left in me!"

* * *

Taika grinned widely as she walked into the hospital door, holding a small plastic bag in her hand. She looked into the room, its single occupant perking up.

Saprus glanced up at her and smiled, clearly pleased to see her. He was naked from the waist up, mainly to help him breathe with the Plaque IX in his body, and she absently examined him unconsciously. He was still as pale as normal, but his torso held scars evident from the disease, certain areas tinged black, especially around the arms. His left arm, the main source, was wrapped in bandages coated with medicine, exposing it from view. He had similar bindings around his pectorals and neck, but he was still mostly exposed. He showed no shame, most likely out of lack of bodily embarrassment.

"You look happy," he commented brushing his hair with a small brush he had been provided. "What's in the bag?"

The huntress beamed, sliding her hand into the bag slowly. Extracting a large bottle of red wine, she raised it up.

The infected gasped, his face registering surprise. "Holy shit, you managed to smuggle that in here?"

"The lady at the desk was too busy fussing over Dion," she said setting it down on a side table. "He finally woke up by the way."

"Oh, good. I think I might visit him. After all the nurses stop trying to baby him of course," said Saprus chuckling. "He does have that kind of look to him. I bet he hates the attention. Now let's crack into the wine."

Taika nodded, pulling out two wine glasses as well. She poured his first, handing it to the eager man quickly.

The infected sipped it, sighing in enjoyment as he savored the wine. "Hot damn this is good. How old is it?"

"About seven," she guessed looking at the bottle. She sipped it, nodding slightly. "I ain't a wine girl, but it is pretty tasty."

"The whole point of wine is the taste after all," argued Saprus leaning back on his cot. He twirled the glass absently, not wanting to take a sip just yet. "You enjoy it to its fullest for every second, never wasting a single experience. It's like life in a way, when you really think about it. You want to try everything in life before you go, even if it's more of the same thing. But…"

He glanced to the side, staring out of his window into space. "Perhaps…perhaps we should be willing to try new things, to really enjoy ourselves. Staying behind in what we've already done is a little excessive. Maybe…ugh, what do you think?"

"I think you need to shut up and have another sip of wine," stated Taika taking her own sip.

"Yeah, good advice."

They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping wine and relaxing. It wasn't tense or awkward, it was just right. It was the kind of silence that was nice, like…uh…actually I can't think of any at the moment. Just assume it was a calm silence.

**[Richard McGuinness] "Whelp, there's the fourth wall being obliterated yet again."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Oh please, like we haven't already done it enough times! We do it so much, this story literally could be someone telling it to you face-to-face and it wouldn't change shit."**

* * *

Suture sat down next to Dion, his clipboard up to his face. He glanced at his fellow Titan, noting his condition. The young Titan had fully regenerated his arm and leg to working condition, and they had successfully implanted a new eye into his skull, which even had the same color. However, he had not been released from the hospital for very good reasons.

"When can I go Doc?" asked Dion adjusting himself on his cot, still sore from lying down for so long. "I can run, jump, and see perfectly fine. I'm getting real tired of hospital food."

"You're being kept here for mental rehabilitating," explained the surgeon calmly.

The Plasma Titan raised an eyebrow. "Mental rehab? Why, I'm fine."

"No you ain't man," countered Rocko the Badass, the other Titan onboard the ship. "You rush into fights without a plan. You go berserk and hit your bros, and you know that ain't cool."

Dion's head began to spin. "Uh…what was that?"

"He's saying that you are incredibly unstable in combat," explained Suture blankly. "In all honesty Dion, you are the least mature, most volatile Titan of the current generation. I have met all the other Titans, and I can confirm this."

The Plasma Titan winced slightly. It was true, and he knew it was. "So…uh…what can I do?"

"Well we can blame your nature on the fact that you are still a child in mental terms," stated the surgeon glancing through his clipboard. "While your body is at 22 years of age, save for the a few features, you are only actually 12 years old. Being in a high stress environment accelerated your aging process, a Titan survival mechanism that leaves you as a berserker maniac. To counter this, we're going to have to teach you how to be a Titan."

"You two are?" questioned Dion.

Rocko shook his head. "Can't be done with us, sorry bout that cuz. Your anger is mighty, teaching you is unlikely."

"We are unable to teach you," spoke Suture calmly. "We learned to conquer our anger through science or music, but we can't expect you to do that. Your element, Plasma, prevents you from being calm at all. So the best solution is to find a Titan who has a similar problem who is still an effective combatant."

"Who is that?"

The surgeon glanced at the door and nodded.

The door flew open, a huge figure filling the door. The figure wore a long white shawl over his shoulders, the edges squared black. His grey hair, like sheet metal, was in a huge pompadour that added half a foot to his height. Over his eyes were star-shaped sunglasses, the frames a bright white color. His shirt was pinstriped black and grey, the front open and exposing his utterly ripped torso. He looked like a rock and roll star, but the dark grey tattoos along his right arm and torso made him look a bit more heavy metal than anything.

Dion raised an eyebrow. "Who the fuck invited the black and white Elvis?"

The figure snickered, annoyed by his comment. "Don't insult Elvis like that asshole. Do that again and I'll break you so fast it'll set a new land speed record for fastest ass-fucking in history."

The Plasma Titan glanced at Suture skeptically. "This guy is going to teach me to control my anger and become more effective?"

"Fucking aye," spat the figure standing over his cot, immense even compared to the rest of the Titans. "Name's Edward the Kidd, or Grey-Dog Killer if you want to be dramatic. I'm the top bounty in the entire universe, so high they literally can't make it higher without bankrupting the economy. I like classic rock and roll, long walks on the beach, and anarchy. Sup?"

_**Edward the Kidd: Grey-Dog Killer**_

Dion shrugged. "Uh…so…what are we going to do?"

Edward grinned widely. "Well, let me explain what's going to happen. I'm your newest guidance counselor maggot. You are going to learn how to be a Titan and not suck in combat and how to not be a whiny little bitch. When you're done, you'll either be in a coffin or a real Titan who eats pussy for breakfast. Now let's get going."

The Plasma Titan paused, not really sure what to do. "Uh…where?"

The older Titan grinned, reaching over and grabbing him easily. Lifting him onto his shoulder, he began carrying him like a sack of potatoes. He glanced back at Suture, his look turning serious.

"You sure that place will be safe?" inquired Edward. "I'm exceptionally powerful, and I could destroy this entire ship if I'm not careful."

"Don't worry," assured Suture. "It's designed for every Titan and Siren to use for training. You can't destroy it even if you tried it."

The older Titan nodded. "Got ya. Well, time for me to train a noob."

* * *

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well it's time for some more Q&A ladies and gentlemen! "**

**[Richard McGuinness] "After that long batch of quasi-filler, we're ready to do something!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, now, let's get started. First couple of questions, of course, are from JcD325, who seems to be the only person so far able to so easily point out our plot holes."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "True dat. But, questions need answers. Spill them."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Okay, first one: 'Created to be a smaller, tactical version of large scale machine said Captain Lowe has a large SMG, does that mean it's a machine gun?'"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "That one is simple. He just has a big SMG. I mean, the Bandit SMG's from Borderlands 2 are fucking huge, almost like machine guns in a way. So Bartholomew probably has one of those. It'd be big for normal people, but Bartholomew is a big guy. He's 7' 6", and nearly 400 pounds from all that metal in his body. A big SMG is perfect for him."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, next question then: 'Grave Lords(?) are mostly composed of mentally damaged individuals. I cannot say for certain, but the Grave Lords you've cited so far are all psychotic. Is that a thing for Arlon? The same goes for the Grave Servants, most are either too stupid and proud or to smart but weak. Is it a sin among Arlon's and Cassius' fractions to employ individuals of sound mind into their ranks?'"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "That's a good observation. But you have to consider where we are in the story. These guys are the lowest rank in Cassius's army. They aren't the top guys, not even close. Believe me, they are idiots or weak. But the next Grave Knights…Jesus I won't spoil anything, but they're tough."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Also, consider this. Solomon and Mortem represented Lust, while Noyade, Daedalus and Mir are Madness. They are the least rational of all the Grave Knight aspects. You still got Sacrifice, Greed…"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Uh, we actually changed them. It's now Lust, Madness, Sacrifice, Greed, Vanity, Intoxication, and Rage, with Cassius still possessing Discord."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Why did we change it?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Eh, apparently we didn't like Nihilism as one, so we changed it to Intoxication. Don't fucking ask me."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Fine, well, there you go. Next question, uh…oh boy, it's to Mortem again. She's been popular recently."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Wonder why. Bunch of perverts."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Hey, she's begging for anyone's D! Okay, here's the question: 'Most children of your age are far from exposed to their sexual nature, and if you're a hundred years old then why did you stop aging before you hit you're teenage years?'"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Okay, let me call her again."**

**[Mortem] "Ooooooh, you two again. What do you need from little old me?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well I could use my dick su…"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Uh, we needed to ask you a question. You probably heard it earlier. Care to answer?"**

**[Mortem] "Oh, that's a good one. Well, it's simple. Father turned me into a Grave Knight when I turned 14, as a birthday present I requested. That was about a century ago. That's a real long time after all, and a girl does get curious. So, I explored. Us Grave Knights don't age or age very slowly, especially when we are so close to the Grave Lord who made our Mark. I believe the Raiders have a real cutie named Alan, and he only ages because his Mark was removed, but at a slower rate than normal. Mine is still there, and I won't ever get older unless it's removed or I go somewhere. I like it. Keeps me young, perky and taut in all the right places."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Oh really? I think it's about time for an annual mandatory gynecologist appointment."**

**[Mortem] "Ooooh? That's convenient, because I got a bad cold Doctor."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Heh, I can solve that. I got a thermometer here, but it's a rectal one."**

**[Mortem] "Umm…I'm a little nervous."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Don't worry. I am very experienced with this practice. I will take this slowly…"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Dear mother of God, shut the fuck up, both of you! Just get on with the other questions!"**

**[Mortem] "Ah, well, I hope to talk to you again Dr. Dale. I might need an examination."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Looking forward to your visit Ms. Mortem. Goodbye. See, smoother than glass."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Uh-huh, sure. Read the damn question."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Fine, no fun. Same source, for any of the weapon companies' CEOs: 'Most of the wanted individuals that you are willing to eisk a fortune are in front of you? Why don't you all simply apprehend them and retain your wealth?'"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Good question. Uh…doing a quick ECHO scan…the closest is Shizukesa Anshin. Let me call him up."**

**[Shizukesa Anshin] "Ah, ohayou gozaimasu (good morning) gentlemen. I was wondering when you'd call me."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, well the question we got is a really good one. Why don't you CEOs arrest guys like…any of the Vault Hunters? Aren't they wanted by most of you guys for something or another?"**

**[Shizukesa Anshin] "You are correct. The reasons behind it is simple. First, those wanted posters in the character profiles are mainly for dramatic purposes and to be similar to the other Borderlands games. They technically don't even exist in the context of this story, mainly to avoid conflicts secondary to the plot. Second, we corporations are not willing to arrest and apprehend our most valuable assets in the fight against Bellum. Even if the conflicts existed, we wouldn't risk losing any resource like a Vault Hunter."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah…wait, you can break the fourth wall?"**

**[Shizukesa Anshin] "Hai (yes), ancient Jananice secret. Now the four Syndicate members, Bartholomew, Hemera, Simo and Cecilia, are wanted by the Universal Government instead of a single organization, as their character sheets hint at. We corporations could care less about them, even if their crimes are numerous. We care more about our conflict with Bellum compared to minor things like impairments of justice."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "You guys substitute justice for business?"**

**[Shizukesa Anshin] "Justice is nice when it is there, but money still makes this world go around. Even I, a doctor of the highest degree, still know this principle to be true. While I care for all my patients selflessly, I will protect my business so I can continue doing so. That is why Bellum is on the top of my blacklist."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Heh, true dat. Good luck with that by the way. Hey, can you get me one of your bodyguard's phone numbers?"**

**[Shizukesa Anshin] "*giggle* That's cute, but no. They are bound to me by contracts. I need them for my physical therapy."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "You need physical therapy? For what?"**

**[Shizukesa Anshin] "Psoriasis, on my shoulders and hands mostly. It is rather bothersome, but negligible when they're with me."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Man, I feel ya. Keep them, I don't really need them. Good luck killing Bellum."**

**[Shizukesa Anshin] "Of course. Sayonara (goodbye)."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well, that's all the questions so far. That was interesting."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Hell yeah. Later assholes."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Tatty bye!"**


	19. Chapter 19: The Trickster

**[Richard McGuinness] "Wait, aren't we supposed to be saying something?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah. Listen audience, we are here to say we rewrote chapter 18, or more specifically what happened to Dion. We hated what we wrote, so we redid it. Leave your comments on the change in this section. We'll talk about it later."**

* * *

Ningyo Torikku sat in the isolated cell quietly, his head bowed low. His hands were cuffed together in front of him, lying in his lap, with the fingers intertwining with each other lazily. He looked bored, and he rightfully should be. Being in a cell like this one would render most people insane, though he was far tougher than that.

The prison ship known as The Leviathan was designed similar to a series of shelves, each prisoner's cell an individual isolated unit. These shelves were also isolated from one another, meaning that if one part of the ship went under the rest could be locked down and salvaged. Any cell or bulkhead could be opened and blasted into deep space if the situation was dire enough.

Ningyo sighed and began rubbing his right temple. Well, that's what it'd look like to any passerby or security cameras. He was actually reading a small note in the center of his palm, which had been marked with a small pen from a messenger. His hands were made of metal, but the messenger had used a reflective ink pen to mark him, meaning that it would be unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't looking at it. Either way, it was a very simple message regardless, being only one letter.

E.

The man grinned, pleased by what was happening. E meant escape. E meant freedom from this shithole. And he knew only one group of people who had a code that simple, and he knew what plan they'd use to get him out.

Ningyo licked his palm to make the message disappear, not needing it any longer in case a guard saw it through coincidence. Then he began to fake a coughing fit, closing his eyes in faux-pain.

Collapsing to the floor, he lay still, knowing the guards would see him. He also knew what they'd do if they thought he was faking it. Taking several deep breathes, he stored the oxygen deep in his lungs, using the same technique divers use when going to treacherous depths.

The cell began to flood with green gas, tranquilizer in fact. They had opted to use this method to knock any prisoner out before inspecting them for medical problems, as many prison guard deaths happened when a guard walked into a conscious prisoner's cell like an idiot. They would flood that gas for a good five minutes, long after the normal time for someone to hold their breath. Of course, most people didn't have the lung capacity to store enough oxygen to last those five minutes, like he did.

The gas ended eventually, causing the cell door to open. A guard stepped in, a tactical flashlight on his rifle trained on the prone man.

"Prisoner Amberjack has been tranquilized," said the guard into his microphone. "Bring in the medical…"

Ningyo leaped at him and grabbed his gun, twisting it out of his hands easily. Sliding his hands into the gun's trigger guard, he planted the barrel against the guard's chin, having reversed the situation in a matter of seconds.

The guard stared at him stunned, now weaponless and having his own gun shoved in his face. "How? We gassed you for five minutes."

"Obviously, you've never done oral with a black guy," joked Ningyo beaming. Then he slammed the butt of the gun into the guard's head, knocking him to the floor unconscious.

The prisoner knew that his cell was about to be flooded into deep space, since the camera captured that right there, so he grabbed the guard and threw him outside the door, rolling to escape the sliding door as well.

"Cell 456, decompressing," spoke a siren above his head. He watched his small cell being opened up into the vacuum of space, the prisoner inside not being in there. He laughed, amused by his own cleverness.

"Well, let's see if I can get my toys back," he said grabbing a small key from the guard's belt. Finding the key to his cuffs, he unlocked them smoothly.

A group of guards rushed around the corner, waving their guns at him as a warning.

"Stand down Amberjack!" warned one of them. "We have been ordered to take you down! Surrender peacefully and your punishment will be light!"

The prisoner hefted the loopy guard back to his feet, grinning widely.

"Guys, guys, guys," taunted Ningyo lowly. "I ain't ever going back in that cell again, or solitary. And my little friend here is going to help me."

He flexed his metal hands, small strings appearing from the fingertips. These strings embedded themselves into the guard he had in his hands, causing him to gasp and shudder. The guard grabbed his gun and began shooting his comrades, his eyes now flashing blue.

"Shit, he unlocked his cuffs!" roared one of the guards. "He can take over any of us!"

Ningyo leaped to the nearest indent in the wall, looking around for a weapon he could use. His hands were still connected to the guard from before, but he could easily control him without actually looking at him. Grabbing a dead guard, he rummaged through until he found a large nightstick. Pushing the button at the top, he found that it instantly charged itself with static electricity. He grinned, pleased he finally got something worthwhile.

The guards kept firing at their former comrade as they backed away, the guard shooting them being ruthless. He was far faster than they were in firing and reloading, making it difficult to kill him. Also, he appeared to be resistant to their attacks, as even blowing out his left eye did little to slow him down.

One of them paused, glancing to his left before an electronic nightstick slammed into his head. He collapsed to the floor before two more blows slammed into his face, rupturing his skull and splitting it like an egg across the floor.

Ningyo ducked back into the shadows, his body easily fading away even while wearing bright orange. He was an expert at stealth and assassination, and the relatively dark corridors made it easy to sneak around. Besides, the guard shooting at them with bullets was probably a larger threat than he was.

The prisoner quickly noticed the siren above his head flashing, causing him to swear. He knew what that meant. They would now be decompressing his bulkhead so he wouldn't survive. He should've expected this. After all, his bulkhead was a private one given for the sole purpose of keeping incredibly dangerous criminals from escaping. If any escape attempt was made, they'd just decompress the bulkhead and start over again. It was sick but effective tactic, and they were now using it for him.

"Bulkhead 345, decompressing."

The back wall of the hallway blew open, throwing him out into space. He panicked, as even with his biotechnical upgrades he could only survive for maybe 10 seconds before he exploded or got smacked with a flying particle through the head. So this was how he'd go out. Being sucked into space like some amateur escape artist. It was humiliating, but he barely had time to think of that before he felt his blood begin to freeze, as the Leviathan was nowhere close to a star to heat anything.

He flew through something that looked like a door before it slammed shut in front of him, causing him to pause. He had landed inside what looked like an airlock, evidenced by the sliding door in front of him that locked shut as pressurized air flooded the chamber. He took a huge gulp of air, relieved someone or something had caught him in the nick of time.

"Heh, I know only one guy smart enough to pull this off," he said glancing at the door behind him.

* * *

Ningyo opened the airlock door and stepped out, looking around for what would be the pilot's seat in this vehicle. He grinned as he spotted the pilot, a man he easily recognized.

"Bartholomew-san," muttered the prisoner chuckling. "It's been too long."

The pirate captain glanced back and beamed at him. "It has my friend. Good to see prison hasn't made you grow stale."

"A master thief never goes stale," argued Ningyo. He sat in a nearby seat, zipping down his prisoner outfit to reveal more of his torso. "So, what does the Syndicate need me for this time? A bank robbery? Maybe a corporate takeover? Or maybe another revolution?"

"I wish," said Simo Hathcock quietly, swiveling around in his chair to face him. "We need you to help us take down a high-value target. Your abilities are complimentary to the team we already have set up."

"Team?" repeated the prisoner. "What team did you manage to assemble, and from where?"

"I assume you've heard of the Crimson Raiders," stated the sniper. "We formed a temporary alliance with them to help us fulfill a request from the Grave Empire. The team is four of their Vault Hunters."

Ningyo whistled. "Vault Hunters eh? They must be really damn effective if they got that kind of certification."

"They are," stated Bartholomew glancing back from the pilot controls. "You can meet them when we get to Sheol. Until then, your equipment has been brought in the back."

The prisoner nodded, standing up and walking towards the stern of the spacecraft. Opening a small door, he found a room with several lockers scattered around the edges. Tapping one of them, it opened to reveal a black skin tight suit that remained open along the chest save for three white straps, exposing any abdominal muscles the wearer may have. He grinned, the memories of this outfit flooding back.

"The Trickster has finally arrived," he whispered grabbing the suit from the rack.

* * *

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "So now can we talk about the change to Chapter 18?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yep. The reason we did it is simple. We aren't some soppy soap opera or bullshit sitcom. We're a goddamn Borderlands fanfic, and we gotta turn the gas up. That shit was cheesy and emo."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well that's a little unfair Rich. We have emotional shit in this story. Look at Suture's breakdown in the first DLC, chapter 51. Or even Brick dying. We just can't have too much, since this is Borderlands after all. It's not meant to be sad, it's meant to be exciting and hilarious. We can have sad shit, but you can't let that be the main thing."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "True dat. Now, can we start the Q&A?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Sure. It's from JcD325, and…uh…this one is for the author."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Oh shit…wait, we can call him!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "We can?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yeah, let me do it."**

**[Samuel Keller] "Hello gentlemen."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Aaaaaaand the fourth wall is now completely gone."**

**[Samuel Keller] "Yes, well that happens a lot. What is the question?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "You already know it…but ;let's repeat it for the audience: 'Quick question, many authors, including myself, live through a character in their story by combining all the traits which they fancy on various characters they hold dear. So my first question is to you, Mr. Keller, do you live through Dion? And if not, then who?'"**

**[Samuel Keller] "Ah, that is a good question. First, all of my characters have aspects of myself in them, even the depraved ones like Mockingbird or Masher. That's the only way I can make it easy to write, but their individual personalities do not reflect my own. Dion is actually very far, personality wise, from myself. If I had to pick someone who was close to me in personality, it would probably be Bartholomew."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Really? That's…interesting."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "So you act like a tough quiet sonofabitch but you're really a soft teddy bear inside?"**

**[Samuel Keller ] "More or less, though I despise the term teddy bear. Though my favorite character I've made is Suture, mainly for that deadpan humor of his. My least favorite character is Simo Hathcock or Aurai. Making innocent, nice characters is really hard believe it or not, especially when you want them to be likeable. Now I think I occupied a little too much time, so I'll be off. Goodbye."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Heh, I thought he'd stay for longer."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "So did I. Kinda grateful he didn't. Now, let's get onto the next question, same source: 'By the way, does that mean, what you said in the last chapter, that Bellum is simply a rip off of the Atlas corporation? Dear Lord, General Alphonse Knoxx may be rolling on his grave right now! Despite this, though, how could the Bellum corporation rise to supremacy when they bear no originality? Didn't the Atlas corporation file a lawsuit for plagirism?'"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Ah, well, technically Bellum's guns aren't like Atlas's. Atlas guns have good stats all around, while Bellum guns have Bandit-gun reload times and Torgue-gun accuracy, though they got Jakobs-gun damage and Vladof-gun fire rates. Guess we didn't get that point across."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, also, if you're wondering just where the fuck Josef gets all those psychopaths…well…this is Borderlands. Everyone is crazy. In the context of this story, only a few true examples of disturbed maniacs exist. So far that includes: Marie Winter, Josef Muller, Mockingbird, Viitta, Daedalus, and Mir. All the other villains have some kind of redeeming quality to them. The ones we listed have absolutely none at all."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "True dat. What about Masher?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "His little brother and his boyfriend as morality chains."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "John and Jane?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "They love each other selflessly."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Uh…Noyade?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Noyade was at least devoted to his master and had a really pitiful death."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Okay, that's all the controversial ones I can think of. Well, later assholes."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Tatty bye."**


	20. Chapter 20: Conflict Within

Baldemar glanced at his newest teammate, his assault rifle in his hands. They were moving through the forest quickly, trying to get to the sanitarium as fast as possible. Since it was impossible to sneak up on Mir, they'd need to rush the place and take him out before he could do something crazy like make it rain sulfur or something.

"So Ningyo, nice outfit," commented the inventor.

The trickster chuckled. He knew that he was exposing a lot of skin, especially around the abdomen, and it was likely a little much. "Well, it's functional Balde-kun. And it makes it easier for me to breathe."

"It's very…exposing," stated Taika glancing back at him, and his washboard abs.

He giggled slightly, putting a hand to his mouth. "I'm flattered Taika-san, but we're business partners. Try to ignore me."

Wolfenstein snickered. "Easy enough."

**[Richard McGuinness] "Wait a sec, why is he using suffixes like Karasu?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well he is Jananice…"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Should've guessed that from his name I guess. Glad we got more than one guy from that weird-ass planet of animated teenagers and tentacles."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Janan is a planet right?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yep."**

They finally reached the sanitarium, the group of 7 pausing in front of the doors. The wereskag sniffed the air, trying to determine where their target was located.

"Mir has a scent of cleaning fluid," he murmured quietly. "But I smell nothing remotely like that."

"Perhaps he left?" proposed Baldemar. "I mean, everyone knows he's here now."

Suddenly the entire area darkened, as if they had been plunged into darkness. The ground, the sky, the trees, all disappeared instantly and replaced by empty shadows. It was extremely disorienting, making their depth perception turn to utter shit.

"Well that answers that question," muttered Ningyo quietly, drawing two large trench knives from his sheathes. "Imagination based powers…God it really is as bad as I thought."

"Mortem said his powers work orally," explained Wolfenstein. "He has to say the effects for them to come into existence. Also, the changes are less effective the farther you are from him. Like he could change oxygen into carbon monoxide if you were right next to him, but it'll only affect about five feet from him."

"Heh, every power has a weakness," stated Simo Hathcock. "We are his power's weakness."

The floor beneath them materialized, but it was not the dirt and soil from earlier. It was a polished tile floor with a black and red chessboard pattern, each tile reflective and shiny. The walls appeared, long black pillars spaced evenly apart along the edge and supporting the ceiling. At the far end of the room was a small black metal chair, ornately decorated and curved like it was made of vines. In it was their opponent, who looked very relaxed.

Mir Vorstelle grinned at them, leaning back in his chair casually. His rain jacket was still over his body, the hood off and exposing his black curly hair.

"Well, well, well, looks like you all are back," stated the Grave Knight smiling slyly. "You're the fifth group today. I guess I'll use the same trick, mainly since it's so fun to watch."

Wolfenstein raised his gun and fired, hitting him clean in the forehead.

Mir collapsed against the back of the chair, blood pouring from the wound. He lay completely still, his eyes vacant.

"That…was easy?" asked Baldemar skeptically.

"That can't be right," muttered Simo. "We didn't hit his Mark."

"Correct."

They whirled and saw a new Mir had appeared right behind them, sitting in the exact same chair in the exact same position.

Wolfenstein raised his gun again, but another voice mocked him, "Honestly, do you really think that is going to work?"

They began looking around, noticing how there were seven new Mirs around their group, all of them seated. The Mirs began chuckling, amused beyond belief.

"Every human has Madness inside of them," explained Mir in a chorus, still flashing their insane smiles. "You have already lost. We are Mir, we are God."

Baldemar smirked. "One for each of us. I like our odds."

Each Mir stood up, gazing at one Vault Hunter each. Then, slowly, they began to change into different forms, their faces transforming as well as their bodies.

"This is gotta be a joke…" murmured Taika.

"Fighting yourself, sounds like a Zen parable," noted Ningyo.

Each Mir now looked like one of the Vault Hunters, the only detail remaining different being their outfits, which were still the blue rain jackets from earlier. Other than that, they were perfect copies.

"We said we are all in you," stated the Mirs casually, adjusting their jackets to expose their faces more. "But we are superior to you. You cannot kill us."

Suddenly the room shifted back into the black void, causing the room and all the Mirs to disappear. The Vault Hunters kept standing in their circle, not sure what to do.

Aurai gasped as a hand grabbed her ankle, panicking as she began to get drawn straight down. She passed a black barrier and began to disappear, as if she was being pulled into a puddle of tar. Wolfenstein tried to grasp her, but she slipped from his grip and disappeared entirely.

"Fuck," muttered the wereskag. "They're separating us."

He stopped as a tendril grabbed his arm, his eyes widening. It looked exactly like his liquid form, the tendril covered in fur and teeth. He was yanked off his feet and thrown sideways, disappearing into the darkness easily.

Simo Hathcock grabbed Taika by the arm, snaking their elbows together. He tried to get Baldemar or Bartholomew, but both of them were grabbed by spectral hands from the darkness before he could get to them. Then they both disappeared together, being dragged upwards into nothingness.

Ningyo chuckled, now alone. "Heh, I know you're there."

He put his blade up to his neck as another appeared, his blade blocking the strike. He glanced behind him, noting the Mir copy of himself.

"Wow, I really am handsome," muttered the real Ningyo.

The fake Ningyo chuckled. "Very funny. But you're going to die here today."

"Only I'd say something like that. But you aren't me. How can I tell? The real me has better bangs."

The fake Ningyo snarled, then began slashing rapidly at him. The real one backed up, blocking the strikes easily. He knew the form they'd follow after all.

"So clumsy, so ugly," murmured the real one. "God, you really are an imperfect copy of me."

The fake one narrowed his eyes, then snapped his hand and made his strings appear. Grasping the real Ningyo with them, he yanked them off his feet and caused him to slam into the floor.

Pinning the real one to the floor, he grinned down at him, now in control. "Well, well, well, looks like I'm the better one."

The real Ningyo raised an eyebrow, then grabbed him and kissed him right on the lips.

The fake Ningyo swore and got off him, wiping his mouth in disgust. "What the fuck?! What the actual fuck?! That's…that's disgusting! Who would do that?! That's…is that incest or masturbation or…Goddamn it what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Hey, I'm a handsome guy," teased the real one giggling. "By the way, look up."

The fake one did so, the tip of his nose hitting a small wire. He stopped dead, knowing what that wire was.

The real Ningyo flicked his wrists, the wires tightening suddenly. Huge cuts appeared on the clone, causing blood to geyser all across the clone's body and pour across the floor. The fake Ningyo stumbled and staggered, having lost a ton of blood in that one attack.

"You definitely aren't smarter," taunted the real one. "I think you're rather boring actually. Well, go on and die already."

The fake one grinned, finally stabilizing. He stared at him intensely, amused to no end.

"I'm still Mir," snapped the fake one. "I can't be killed without hitting the Mark. But I won't tell you where it is."

Ningyo raised an eyebrow. "Well…that's an interesting development. I guess I have to step things up."

* * *

Bartholomew revved his motorcycle as he sped across the arena, his body tucked low to gain speed. The clone had dragged him into another reality that was black and white and red, as evidenced by the blood dashed across the arena from their clashes. The arena they were in had curved walls similar to a giant bowl, along with two motorcycles similar to his own.

**[Richard McGuinness] "Hey, wait, isn't this that level from that game we're based on?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "You mean Madworld? Yep, it's the level with Kojack. Kinda fitting actually."**

He sped towards the clone, both of them playing a pseudo-game of chicken. Of course, there was a bit more to this game of chicken than just guts.

He flicked his right arm and a huge chainsaw blade materialized into life, revving up wildly for blood. He swung, still maintaining his stability with one hand.

The blade ate through the clone's body, shredding the skin easily and releasing a huge amount of blood. They flew to the opposite sides of the arena, their motorcycles still running.

The fake Bartholomew chuckled, his body growing back to his original shape. He was far more psychopathic and violent than the real one, as well as more foul-mouthed. "I'm gonna fuck you up man! You can't kill me like that!"

"Such taunts!" snapped the real Bartholomew. "You don't seem to realize that Gust-Iron Fist isn't one to lose to anyone!"

He raised his right arm and fired a Cannon Shot, tearing through the arena and throwing up dust.

The fake one dodged and began driving around, firing Cannon Shots back at him. The real one began evading nimbly, using his biking skills to avoid the deadly shots.

The real Bartholomew snapped his bike and began driving right at him, manifesting his chainsaw as well. The fake one began charging up a shot, grinning widely.

"Got ya now!" snapped the fake Bartholomew firing.

The real one fired his own Cannon Shot at the ground, throwing him and his motorcycle into the air. He got off the bike and grabbed the handlebars and seat, raising it above his head. The fake one widened his eyes as he suddenly figured out what he was going to do.

The real one threw the motorcycle straight down, impacting the fake one and detonated like a smart bomb.

The real Bartholomew slammed into the ground, chuckling lowly. The place where the fake one had been was now a huge fireball. At the least, he had destroyed his clone's motorcycle.

He heard a revving noise to his left and turned, his eyes widening. A huge automobile was charging towards him, similar to a Hummer in fashion. At the wheel was the fake Bartholomew, having apparently survived the explosion.

The clone grinned, spinning the wheel widely. His car turned, revealing that strapped to the back was another vehicle, one that skid to a halt next to the real one.

"Mount up jockey!" snapped the fake one. "I want to see if you can road rage as hard as I can!" He drove off to the side of the arena and blasted through the fence guarding the rim, barreling towards some unknown destination.

The real one narrowed his eyes, then climbed into the driver's seat. "You just got more than you wished for!"

* * *

Aurai plummeted straight downwards, her body in a free fall. She was falling down what appeared to be a series of giant towers in the clouds, the ground invisible from where she was. She was going rather fast, trying to pursue her opponent.

The fake Aurai turned and fired her SMG at her, the elemental bullets narrowly missing her.

The real Aurai dodged to the side and returned fire, trying to hit a moving target with wind in her eyes and moving at the same speed as an automobile. Needless to say it was very hard and she didn't get a single hit.

"You really aren't good at this!" taunted the fake one, her grin immense. So far she had shown a psychopathic personality very similar to Aurai's back before she became devoted to Dion, one that was uncanny to the now rehabilitated Aurai.

The real one flew behind a pillar and began firing through it, using the element of surprise to prevent her opponent from dodging the shots. This didn't work either, as her opponent simple returned fire and hit each bullet with another.

The real Aurai gritted her teeth and flared out her arms, her Siren wings manifesting themselves into life. Blasting through the pillar with ease, she grabbed her copy by the lapels and slugged her in the face.

The fake Aurai snarled and scratched her right in the face, nearly taking an eye out with her swipe. The real one cried out and grasped at her ear. Tearing straight down, she ripped the organ clean off, causing blood to cover both of them.

"You…cunt!" snapped the fake one angrily. "I need that for hearing!"

"Well hear this!" roared the real one kicking her right in the neck, nearly crushing her windpipe in the process. This sent the fake one spiraling downwards, clutching at her neck and nearly choking to death.

The fake Aurai glared at her, then pulled out a pistol and shot her twice in the chest. The real one grasped at the wounds in pain, her body going slightly limp.

"Damn it that stings…" muttered the real Aurai.

* * *

Wolfenstein sprinted over the buildings, his right arm holding one of his long pistols, the magazine half empty. He had three bullet wounds in his right side from his brawl, trailing blood behind him. His legs were in their wereskag form, allowing him to move incredibly fast and climb any obstacle in his way. The buildings they were running on kept generating right in front of them, being seemingly infinite in number and variety.

The fake Wolfenstein grinned, running on the opposite building nearby. He raised his pistol and fired, not slowing down at all. He was far more bloodthirsty and ferocious than the real one, though that could be excused due to the real one's occasional lapses into insane bloodlust. Unlike the original, he didn't have a mask of stoicism at all, going straight to the bloodlust.

"You gonna keep running or you gonna fight?" asked the fake Wolfenstein, his eyes wide in excitement.

The real one narrowed his eyes and reached to his belt. Grabbing a grenade, he pulled the pin and tossed it at the fake one.

The grenade exploded, causing the fake one to fly into the air and smashed into the next building. He gritted his teeth and began to stand, but the real one was already there.

The real Wolfenstein grabbed the fake one in a claw and stabbed him with the other, rupturing his spine easily. Expanding his arm, he began splitting his body in half horizontally from the waist.

The fake Wolfenstein snarled and transformed his mouth, biting down hard on the real one's neck. This released a torrent of blood as he bit through the artery and windpipe, though that was far from a lethal blow for a wereskag.

The real one leaped away as his neck began to regenerate into place. Raising his pistol, he nailed him once in the forehead.

The fake one chuckled, his body already going back to normal. "Wow. You really don't get it. I have wereskag regeneration and Grave Knight immortality. I might as well be invincible."

"Nothing is invincible," grunted the real Wolfenstein. "As soon as your Mark is gone, I will exploit the weakness every wereskag has."

The fake Wolfenstein paused, his eyes widening. "What? What weakness?"

The real one offered a rare smile, one full of mocking scorn. "Not telling you."

The fake one roared in anger and ran at him, transforming his right arm into a huge claw the size of a beach ball. Swinging it widely, the real one easily dodged the frantic strikes. Morphing his own arm, he blocked the next attack and put his pistol to the fake one's forehead.

The real Wolfenstein fired the pistol, blowing the top-half of the fake Wolfenstein's head, causing him to stumble backwards in a daze.

The fake one regenerated one of his eyes just in time to see a claw embedded into his neck, preventing him from breathing. Grasping at the arm in his neck, he squeezed it tightly, splitting it in half with his inhuman strength.

The real one backed up, his left arm dripping with gore. His hand came back just in time for him to punch the fake one in the face, stunning him into submission. Grabbing at the lapels of the fake one's jacket, he grinned at him with his own psychotic smile.

"Bye," taunted the real Wolfenstein tossing the fake one off the building, letting him fall to his death.

He paused, looking around confused. The illusion or whatever hadn't ended, meaning one of two things. There were more opponents, or more likely…

He glanced down in shock as a huge claw appeared from below, grasping at the building. It was easily as big as a minivan, each claw as long as a 2X4. Another claw appeared next to it, accompanied by an immense snarling head. It was the fake Wolfenstein, having transformed into a wereskag at nearly five times the normal scale.

The real Wolfenstein sprinted away instantly, knowing it was a stupid to try to fight this thing up close. Chuckling lowly, he grabbed something under his jacket sleeve.

"Such an obvious location for it," he noted blankly. "He should be ashamed for its simplicity."

* * *

Baldemar pulled out an immense rocket launcher, with what looked like a giant toaster mounted to the top.

"This is my Toastenator!" he yelled proudly, placing it against his shoulder. "It blows up assholes, and can even perfectly toast my English muffins!"

"Nice, but I got something better," stated the fake Baldemar, pulling something out of his SDU. Setting down a large washer machine with a beat box on the top, he grinned.

"This baby is a Rhyme-N-Wash," stated the fake one rubbing the top of it. "It plays kickass hip-hop and can wash everything from cotton to silk!"

"That's pretty legit," commented the real one nodding. "However, trump this!"

He pulled out what looked like a pillow, he grinned widely. "This baby is the Snoozatron-2000! Has temperature control, relaxing vibration features, and is machine washable!"

The fake one beamed. "Hot damn that's sick! But I got something for that!"

He grabbed what appeared to be a ukulele, he raised it. Then it suddenly exploded into a huge array of tools, like a Swiss-Army Knife on steroids. "This Swiss-Army Ukulele has all the tools you need during your Hawaiian vacations! Pineapple peeler, coconut opener, margarita mixer, umbrella, sunscreen dispenser, cup holder, and all with the original functionality of a ukulele!"

**[Richard McGuinness] "Holy shit I could use one of those."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "You play the ukulele?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Totally! Give me a song!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Bohemian Rhapsody."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "You know what, fuck it. Let's get this shit on the road!"**

The real Baldemar paused, his eyes wide. "Dude…that's awesome. That's…that's hard to beat."

"Are you willing to surrender and die?" asked the fake one politely.

The real one grinned. "Not yet! I got a few more tricks up my sleeves!"

"Heh, go ahead. I can trump any genius you might have."

"Well I'll trump that genius with my _extra_ genius I have in my _pockets_!"

* * *

Taika slashed at the fake Taika with her machete, clipping her hair with the attack and narrowly missing her eyes.

The fake Taika backed up, raised a shotgun to par. Firing it, she clipped the side of the real one with buckshot and caused blood to splatter against the ground nearby.

The real Roosevelt flew in and tackled the fake Taika, chomping at her face dangerously close. He was interrupted by the fake Roosevelt swooping in and throwing him off with a well-placed bite, causing them to return to their aerial combat in the sky above the two huntresses.

"Your Roosevelt is fat," insulted the fake Taika.

"Your ass is fat," snapped the real Taika. "Yeah, your insults are worse than mine too."

The fake Taika gritted her teeth, pulling out her machete as well. They began slashing at each other rapidly, any blow they dealt to one being matched by the other.

Simo chuckled, glancing at the two of them amused. "Wow, they are really going at it. Perhaps we can be a bit more civil?"

"No," answered the fake Simo bluntly, his eyes slanted coldly. "I will kill you, for I am superior."

"Can't we just talk this out?" questioned the real Simo. "Killing myself sounds kinda dark."

"Well you don't have to worry about that, since I will kill you instead."

The fake Simo fired his sniper rifle at him, the bullet narrowly missing the real Simo. The real one dodged, still trying to negotiate.

"Perhaps we can just part ways peacefully?" he offered dodging another bullet.

"No."

"What about a chat over tea?"

"No."

"Maybe we can have a drink at a bar?"

"Stop talking and die!" snapped the fake Simo. He fired desperately at the real Simo, his anger rising. "Why don't you die already?!"

"Well I don't want to die, but I don't want to kill you!"

"How did you ever get known as Red Death with that attitude?!"

The real Simo sprinted away and grabbed the real Taika, running into one of the nearby buildings. Tossing a grenade behind them, he released a huge cloud of black smoke to disguise their movements. The two fake Vault Hunters snarled, annoyed by their escape.

The real Simo finally settled after running for five minutes, panting slightly. "Our copies are equal in skill and abilities. It is impossible for us to take on ourselves like this."

"You got a plan?" inquired Taika.

Simo nodded, then he grinned. "More than a plan actually. I even know where the Mark is. You wouldn't believe how I found out."

**[Richard McGuinness] "Uh…he looked and saw it?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Actually no, but I won't spoil it for the audience. Let's wait for the next chapter."**

* * *

**This is an author announcement. If there are still any questions about the changes I made to Chapter 18, please leave them in a PM for me, as I'd prefer not causing confusion in new readers. **


	21. Chapter 21: The Question

The real Ningyo dodged the razor string aimed at his head, stepping back easily. Stepping forward on the pure darkness below him, he slashed with his trench knife at the fake one, hitting him under the right eye and trailing a huge cut across his face.

The fake Ningyo grabbed the bleeding wound and flicked his own wrist, strings rapidly appearing from the fingertips. The strings wrapped around the real one by the arm, shredding through the clothes and gripping the flesh underneath.

The fake one threw the real one into the air and slammed him right back into the ground, or what counted as the ground in the pitch darkness. He leaped onto his body and plunged his trench knife into the real one's shoulder. Grinning widely, he pulled out another one from his belt and placed it against his throat.

The fake Ningyo giggled lowly, pushing the knife blade slowly into his neck and drawing blood. "I already told you, we copies are far greater than you. We have none of your weaknesses and all of your strengths."

"You have one weakness," stated the real Ningyo. "That Mark of yours is your weak spot."

"Yes, but where is it?" taunted the fake one. "You haven't found it yet, though that doesn't really matter. I…"

He stopped, feeling something grab his tongue. He looked down, noticing how a single string was wrapped around the tip of his tongue, preventing him from speaking.

The real Ningyo then flicked his wrist, tightening the strings.

The fake one screamed as his tongue was ripped out of his mouth, blood pouring from between his teeth. He clutched futile to seal the wound in a panic, as unlike all the other wounds he had received, this one wasn't sealing itself automatically.

The real one caught the flying organ and gripped it, grinning widely. "Well your tongue isn't silver, but it is fairly valuable, isn't it? Especially with this on it…"

He held it up, exposing a small black circle on the back edge of the tongue. It was a Grave Knight Mark, the exact one he needed to take out.

"H-h-how?" gasped the fake one, finding it difficult to speak without a tongue.

The real one grinned, then pulled down his own tongue, pointing inside. Inside his mouth was the same Mark, albeit one that did not have the same restrictions as his copy.

"You are perfect copies of us, but your power probably restricts you from adding new features. So the simplest solution is to make the original have this Mark as well so you can still make the copies with your abilities. It's a nice loophole for you, but I bet you never anticipated someone figuring it out, did you Mir?"

The fake one snarled, collapsing to his knees as he began to bleed out. "D-d-damn y-you-u N-n-ningyo…"

Then he disappeared into stardust, turning into absolutely nothing and vanishing.

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "So, wait, that doesn't make any sense."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Life doesn't make sense! Get over it!"**

* * *

Bartholomew shifted into third gear and sped down the street, gritting his teeth in concentration. After breaking out of the arena from earlier, they were now using a series of city blocks as their arena.

A large vehicle slammed into his own, flipping him over and causing him to smash into a building. He grunted, blood pouring from his bleeding forehead into one of his eyes. The car was still functional, as it was designed for collisions, but too many of these crashes would render him unable to continue.

The fake Bartholomew stopped his car and grinned at him, flipping the bird in one motion as well. "Gonna be road kill if you keep driving like that! Better go step up or go belly-up!"

The real Bartholomew narrowed his eyes, wiping the blood from his face off with the back of his metal hand. "Well…you really do have my confidence and energy, I'll give you that! But you miss one crucial detail of mine!"

He grinned widely, reaching into the SDU on his mechanical arm. Grabbing a landmine from it, he threw it out the window like a Frisbee. The jagged edges of the explosive stabbed into the side of the fake Bartholomew's car, blowing the back windows to pieces and creating a huge hole in it. Unlike most action movies though, this did not detonate the whole car like it was made of dynamite. It actually takes a lot more to make a car explode than just a landmine.

The fake one swore loudly, flooring the accelerator to get the hell out of there. The real one chuckled, driving out of the building as gracefully as he could and taking a side road.

"_He may be the source of this illusion, but I memorized it just as well as he did,"_ thought the real one. _"The street he is on has five different intersecting streets at varying angles of intersection before turning a corner and forming a square around this city, with the same number of intersections on each side. We're fighting in a huge square interconnected to itself like a spider web, a rather ingenious design too. I have no doubts he knows this, so he will be expecting me to hit him from one of those side streets. The simplest solution is to go the less obvious route: through a building."_

He made a sharp turn, driving through a building easily. He narrowed his eyes to concentrate, trying to keep his sense of direction. As the maximum speed of the vehicle was about 80 miles per hour while his speed was about 50 miles per hour through the building, he had to calculate where they could both intersect. He didn't have the city measurements, but he did know a way to calculate it.

"This side street is about 20 feet between the street he is over, and he had a 7 second lead at 80 miles per hour, meaning he has gotten 0.15 miles during this time. At my current rate of travel…"

He spat, his anger rising. "Damn it I won't be able to make it to him. Unless…"

He grinned, suddenly getting an idea. "Wait, that's it. These buildings are all the same size. They're like a single platform only separated by streets. So…"

He threw a landmine out of his window, attaching it to the side of one of the building's pillars easily. Throwing several more in quick succession, he managed to attach them to several different positions in several separate buildings around him. Rapidly swiveling the car, he pushed the detonators all at once.

The landmines exploded and the buildings began to slide down, landing on the pillars left to support them. They stayed like this, the strategic placement leaving the tops of the buildings all slanted together like a ramp. Exactly what he needed to get.

He drove over the top of the slanted buildings, the car shaking and shuddering due to the rough construction, or should I say destruction. He managed to get to the top of the actual buildings and grinned, his plan working perfectly so far. Now he just had to find his copy and take him out. How to do this would be hard, as he needed to take out the Mark on his body in order for him to be killed.

"Heh, I got an idea," he murmured, quickly scanning the contents of his SDU. "Just ramming my car into him from above won't kill him. I'll need a lot more explosives to do that. Good thing I have enough in my pocket to declare and win World War 4."

**[Richard McGuinness] "Wait, there was a third one? When?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "It was over the Internet. Piracy vs. the Universal Government. The Government lost pathetically."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Ah, awesome. That explains why Pirate Bay is still up and running. I just downloaded Goat Simulator on that shit, totally worth it."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, because it cost so much to download that illegally off the Internet for a couple of hours."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Hey, there wasn't a lot of seeders! It was a bitch waiting for that game!"**

The real Bartholomew glanced down and saw his copy driving through the streets. He was going the exact way he had predicted, following the main road. He didn't appear to notice him yet, as he wasn't altering his route at all.

Pulling out all his grenades, he tossed them into his backseat into a pile. Doing the same with his rockets and landmines, he paused before dropping a small nuclear bomb in the center.

"Heh, that'd kill Godzilla if I wanted to," he mused aloud. "Guess that should do it. If not, well...maybe I'll just die? That's not too bad of an option. I'm a pirate, we're always ready to die."

He grinned, rubbing his mustache with one hand. "Least I'll die with my moustache intact! Let's get it on!"

He finally managed to get close to the copy's car, or close enough to where he could hit him directly. He took aim, steadied his breath, then swerved off the building. Opening the door, he leaped out of his car, slamming into the rooftop and rolling to catch himself. Staring through the window of his copy's car, he grinned widely.

"Hey, say hi to Mir for me!" he yelled loudly, liking the look of shock on his copy's face.

Then his fully-loaded car smashed into his copy's car, detonating the explosives in the back as well. This destroyed the entire city block around the car, throwing the real Bartholomew off the building and into the next one, causing him to swear in pain.

"Fuck that hurt!" he snapped grasping at his broken arm. He chuckled through the pain, standing back up. "Well, least I got him. That thing atomized the block. He won't be getting back up."

* * *

Aurai blocked the strike to her side and retaliated with an elbow to the head, still falling through the towers in the clouds. Spinning, she kicked her copy in the stomach, knocking her further down.

The fake one roared in anger and flapped her Siren wings, ramming into her with her head. This knocked the breath out of the real one, causing her to gasp and clutch her stomach. The fake one launched a torrent of blows against her, her fists bruising her neck and face seemingly effortlessly. She finished by yanking out a huge chunk of her hair, throwing her into a pillar as she did so.

The real Aurai skidded down the pillar, being pulled by gravity, kicking up huge chunks of debris before finally slowing down and stopping. She grunted and tried to stand back up, her knees wobbling in pain. Gasping as she felt the blows process through her body, she knew she was going to have some trouble getting back into the fight.

The fake Aurai grinned sadistically, enjoying her pain. "Wow. You really are pathetic. Heh, I really am better than you, you goddamn fucking bitch. How about when this is done, I replace you and end up with Dion? I wouldn't mind, he's pretty cute. I deserve him more than you ever fucking do."

The real Aurai paused, her face growing dark. Then she looked at her copy.

The fake one stopped dead, her eyes widening. The expression on the real Siren's face was absolutely terrifying, like something you'd see in pitch darkness during a nightmare. The mouth was a flat line, and no creases were present, but her eyes were the definite feature. They were full of absolute hatred and rage, enough that she began to tremble in fear. She, the representation of Aurai's sadism and anger, was the one being cowed by her expression.

"Go ahead and try it," spoke the real one far too calmly, her voice low and malevolent.

The fake one couldn't move. She felt like she was already dead, with the only function know being able to breathe. She might as well have stopped breathing, as that wouldn't change the feeling. This was the closest she had ever been to a 'dead man walking' feeling, and it was completely unsettling.

The fake Aurai flew away as fast as she could, panic setting in. She looked behind her to see the real one fast approaching, her face not moving from the original expression.

The fake one darted around a tower, panting heavily. She heard a creaking noise behind her and turned, but she quickly wished she hadn't.

The real Aurai was holding a huge chunk of the pillar over her head, having ripped it off with her bare hands. Gripping it tightly, she threw it, her face still deathly calm and blank.

The fake Aurai tried to dodge it, but instead got caught fully by it. She shattered it with a punch, only to see something flying through the rubble at her.

The real Aurai slammed into her, bringing back an arm to swing. Smashing it into her head, she released a huge array of blows that felt like gunshot wounds, melting her skin on contact. She futilely tried to block with her arms, but the hurricane of punches simply broke them clean through, shattering the bones like paper. She felt her ribs go next, her sternum disintegrating in her chest.

The real one grabbed her by the shoulder, twirling her around. Grabbing both of the fake one's wings, she planted a foot in her back and tugged upwards.

The fake Aurai screamed as her wings were ripped off her body, blood gushing from the wounds. Siren wings actually became attached after appearing, meaning they were similar to organs in a way. The sheer amount of blood should've been a clue towards that though.

The real Aurai then grabbed her by the back of her neck and flew her towards a pillar, slamming her head into the rough surface. They began flying straight down even faster, the Siren's face beginning to scrape off like a cheese grater. Blood and gore flew as her head was worn away to absolutely nothing, leaving only a few flaps of skin above the neck where it should've been. Of course, this also destroyed the Mark that was inside her tongue, though she had no idea that it did that. She honestly didn't care either, she did this to let her hatred out.

The real one tossed the remains of her copy down below, flapping her own wings to keep her steady. Her face was deathly blank, watching her copy fall into oblivion far below until it was out of sight. She had blood covering her entire right side from grating her copy's head into the tower and her legs from the clipping of her wings, and she made no effort to wipe the blood off.

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "…holy shit she's scary when she's mad."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yeah. Beware the cute ones indeed." **

* * *

Wolfenstein leaped over the gap in front of him, his head tucked low. Behind him was the immense fake wereskag copy of him, destroying buildings casually as it trudged towards him. He knew it was stupid to try and fight something that big, though he did know where its weakness was. He was already planning on how to get to it, but that would be harder than normal. After all, the thing could easily swallow him whole without a problem, and it wasn't like he could shoot through the teeth and get a cheap shot in moving at this speed. He'd have to do something creative.

Landing hard on the building, he slid out a small reel of wire from under his jacket sleeve. Twirling the end of it, he threw two lines diagonally in front of him, catching the corners of the building easily. Gripping both of the lines with either hand, he leaped over the side of the building and plummeted straight down, concentrating intensely. As he did so, he spread his arms across the lines in their liquid state, morphing his torso and stomach as he did so. They finally gripped the sides of the building, causing him to grin widely.

The lines finally snapped back and he flew into the air, propelled like a slingshot with the building as the sling. Looking down at the huge wereskag, he morphed his body into an immense maw of teeth, the wingspan of his arms being the new mouth. In other words, he just rearranged his entire body into a mouth.

Chomping down on the fake Wolfenstein, he also bit through the building he was on top of and managed to close his mouth, grinning widely. Then he began to shrink back to normal, rapidly digesting them with stomach acid that was far more effective than normal. By the time he had gotten back to human size, he felt only a small bump in his stomach, though he did feel a lot fuller.

"Heh, he tasted great," commented the real Wolfenstein. "Good thing I learned how to do that, otherwise I never would've gotten him."

**[Richard McGuinness] "Holy fucking shit did he just swallow that thing? It was as big as a freaking passenger plane!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well Wolfenstein's body acts as a liquid when he shapeshifts. It's seemingly infinite too. He's like Luffy from One Piece. Or Mr. Fantastic from the Fantastic Four."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yeah, but made of fucking teeth and blood and eyes."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "…you just **_**had**_** to kill the metaphor, didn't you?"**

* * *

The real Baldemar made a large red SUV appear next to him, which looked fairly ordinary in all honesty. He held up the car keys, grinning widely.

"This baby is a fully automated vehicle," he said jingling the keys from the chain. "It has GPS, accident-prediction-and-avoidance, voice-controlled radio, and ten cup holders! Trump that!"

The fake Baldemar chuckled, holding up a small bottle of pills in his hands. "These things are food pills, concentrated into a pill-shaped form that can be heated using any conventional oven into their respective food item! Pizza, turkey, roast beef, waffles, damn close to anything!"

"Spray-on clothes!"

"3-D Maneuver Gear!"

"Animus 5.0!"

"Sword-shooting assault rifle!"

"Hoverboard!"

The fake Baldemar paused, his eyes wide. "Whoa…that's…I can't top that."

The real Baldemar grinned, currently off the ground on a small plastic pink board, with small ripples of air moving between him and the dirt. It was fairly impressive, as he could easily do any number of tricks with the board and still remain off the ground.

The fake one chuckled, slowly disappearing into stardust. "Man, it was nice competing against you. Good luck against Mir. You're going to need it."

Then he was completely gone, their dual of ingenious inventing now over.

**[Richard McGuinness] "So everyone else fights and kills each other and these two just sit around, jerking their invention boners?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeeeep."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "That's…bullshit."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeeeep."**

* * *

A red-clothed figure walked through the empty street, moving slowly and calmly like they were taking a leisurely walk. A huge Slag sniper rifle hung on their back, their hands disguised beneath their jacket sleeves.

The fake Taika looked down and grinned, seemingly pleased. "Well look, it's you Simo. Guess you were right, they are here."

The fake Simo nodded blankly, his face calm and emotionless. "It would be foolish to shoot him from afar. He can dodge our shots easily, and he can counter with shots that can easily kill us."

"But does he know where our Mark is? How could he figure it out?"

"I know how smart he is. He probably saw it while I was talking or breathing. It's not invisible you know. If that is the case, we must be careful, as he has no doubt told his comrade of the location. Be on your guard."

The fake Taika nodded. "But what will you do?"

The fake Simo pulled out a tactical knife, slumping low to the ground. "I will take him out. He is not versed in hand-to-hand combat, and I will get the advantage through surprise."

He slithered towards the location of the red clothed-figure, his gaze like steel. He couldn't see the person in red, as their face was covered by a large scarf, but it had to be Simo. It was the exact same figure and height, and even the same sunglasses. It had to be him.

The figure approached his hiding spot and he leaped out, his knife down low to stab the figure in the heart.

The figure easily blocked the strike, grabbing him by the neck with a tanned hand. He gasped aloud, his eyes widening. This wasn't Simo.

The real Taika grinned, the scarf around her face unraveling slowly. "Heh, fooled ya."

The fake Simo grunted, annoyance flashing in his face. "Taika! This is…!"

The real Taika stabbed him in the chest with her machete, stopping his speech. "Tut-tut. I don't want you spilling the beans yet. After all, it's rude to ignore a lady."

The fake Simo snarled. "If you are here, where is that blond idiot?"

"Oh, the real Simo? Well you shouldn't be calling him an idiot. This was his plan after all."

The fake Taika paused, noticing something rapidly. Her eyes widened, staring in shock at what she saw.

"What the fuck?! Who the fuck is that?!" she roared confused. "But…he's…he can't be…!"

The real Simo stood to at a faraway rooftop, wearing Taika's signature hat. Still, he had the front of it tipped up, revealing his face to her. He was aiming through his sniper rifle barrel, his eyes cold.

He fired, the bullet splitting the fake Taika's arm clean off her body and causing her to collapse to the ground. She snarled, aiming through her rifle on the ground despite the pain.

"Gonna kill you…" she muttered gripping her gun tightly, trying to aim through the scope as best she could. "Gonna kill you…gonna kill you…"

The real Simo fired again, the bullet traveling straight through her scope and entering her eye. This caused her entire head to explode instantly, obliterating the Mark inside of her body in one bullet. She collapsed flat, her body disappearing into stardust.

The fake Simo grunted in anger, now alone in his fight. He glared at the real Taika, gripping the machete in her hand.

"Mir is far above your power," he spat with venom, panting in exhaustion. "He can create anything at all, like a god. It is illogical to continue this fight. It…"

The real Taika relinquished her blade from her side and then stabbed him in the face, silencing him instantly. He began to disappear into stardust, though she decided to give him a few parting words.

"Tell Mir a little something: we don't care about his power," snapped the huntress smiling arrogantly. "We're Vault Hunters. We've killed people known as gods before. Ever heard of Jackal Cash? We took him down, and he was a lot scarier than Mir will ever be. We don't back down easily when you hurt our pride. Better be ready for war Mir. We're coming for you."

Then the fake Simo completely disappeared, leaving the two of them alone together.

The real Simo walked forward, his sniper rifle resting comfortably on his shoulder. He chuckled at her, seemingly slightly nervous. "Man, watching myself die was a weird feeling. I bet you felt the same when I shot your copy, correct?"

Taika chuckled, bemused by his comment. "Never really thought about it, but yeah, you're right. It is pretty freaky. So now that we did that, where can we…?"

They both paused, noticing a black door suddenly appear nearby. It wasn't like it was just a frame and a door in the middle of nowhere, it was actually built into the side of a nearby building. It definitely stood out, as it looked very similar to the chairs Mir was sitting in earlier, with the same vine pattern built into the wood. It also seemed to radiate light, the edges of the door bright and casting shadows into their world.

"Well…that looks about right," she muttered walking towards it. She opened it, flooding them in light. She stepped through, the sniper following close behind her as well.

They stepped right back into the red and black tiled floors from earlier, legitimately surprised as well. They saw that the rest of the Vault Hunters were already gathered, several other doors being placed in a semicircle around them.

Baldemar grinned, his assault rifle on his shoulder and a strange ukulele on his hip. "Heh, you two managed to survive. Grateful to see that."

Bartholomew burst into laughter, planting his hands on his hips triumphantly. "Excellent! We all managed to beat our respective selves, and without injury I see!"

Taika glanced at Aurai, pausing in astonishment. She was covered head to toe in blood, most especially on her right side. "Aurai, you hurt? You look pretty bad."

The Siren paused, then grinned widely. "Naw, I'm fine! You should see the other girl!"

Wolfenstein raised an eyebrow, slight concern flooding his face. "That is…alarming."

They all stopped when Mir appeared, still sitting in his chair calmly. He looked slightly entertained, his face holding a small smile on it with his eyes wide. He began to clap slowly, almost mockingly.

"Well done, very well done," complimented the Grave Knight, moving a strand of black hair from his eyes. "You're the first group all day to survive. I commend you, truly. I'm so glad I finally get to be entertained."

"You found that entertaining?" inquired Wolfenstein blankly, his eyes narrowing. He raised his gun. "Perhaps this will entertain you."

Mir grinned, licking his lips absently. "Oh my. But what if bullets were made of bubbles?"

The wereskag fired his pistol, but only soap bubbles emitted from the end. He snarled, throwing down his gun instantly. "What foul magic is this?"

The Grave Knight giggled amused. "No magic. It is merely my ability to create anything. To create your copies, I simple imagined if there was a duplicate of you. You see, a child's question carries immense power. It holds innocence and a desire for knowledge, with the answer forming the knowledge inside that child's mind. In essence, answering a child's question forms a new reality in their mind. If you told a child that the sun sets in the east and rises in the west, he would believe it. Even if he saw the opposite, he would continue to deny it, as the past reality is what he accepts as his own reality. So all I do is ask a question, and get answered."

Bartholomew grunted, tossing his gun aside. "So what you're saying is that you must always ask a question for your powers to manifest themselves, is that correct?"

Mir shrugged. "Perhaps I did, perhaps not. I think it's about time we really started having fun though."

He stood up, adjusting his blue rain jacket absently. Then he grinned, taking a step forward as well.


	22. Chapter 22: The Killer's High

Mir Vorstelle paused in front of the Vault Hunters, running a hand through his hair nervously. He chuckled once, a small giggle that sounded downright creepy coming from such a child.

"Well, I can't really think of anything at the moment except for one thing," he murmured quietly. "So…what if you all were the opposite gender?"

The Vault Hunters paused and stopped, their bodies suddenly shifting into new forms. The transformations were relatively painless, though certain Vault Hunters found their perspective had changed entirely.

Aurai glanced around, suddenly a lot shorter. She was also now fairly masculine as well, her hair a bright green color and far fuzzier on her head. She looked almost exactly like Dion, with only her purple eyes remaining. "Hmm…so this is what it's like being Dion. Everything's so tall from down here, and his chest is so light without those things there."

She stopped, a realization coming to mind. "Uh…how do I pee like this?"

Mir giggled, amused by her reaction. "Curious. Naturally you all transformed into the object of your lust towards the other gender. I find that accidentally amusing."

Taika blushed crimson as she realized who she looked like, extremely embarrassed. She had grey silver hair that went down to mid-back and pale skin over her entire body, her frame now less built and thinner. She was an exact replica of Saprus, though she still had her cowboy hat on.

"Goddamn it this is humiliating…" she muttered turning away from them. "God I hope they don't tell Saprus about this…"

Baldemar grinned widely, realizing her had transformed into Gaige. He then did the obvious thing and looked down his new breasts, chuckling lowly.

"Peek-a-boo, I've seen you," he chimed looking down his shirt and eyeing the new organs. "If only Gaige could see me now. She did say I needed to get in touch with my feminine side."

Simo chuckled nervously to himself, a blush over his face. He had transformed into a golden-haired woman with a rather curvaceous form, one he apparently recognized. "If you meet a woman called Hemera, please do not tell her about this. She would be…most displeased with me."

Bartholomew glanced at himself, raising an eyebrow. He was now shorter than normal, but he still had his mechanical arm and leg designed to his new feminine body. He was also remarkably buxom, being nearly as large as Mad Moxxi in the chest aspect. "I knew I was a shameless guy, but damn. My expectations might be a little unrealistic."

Wolfenstein snarled in annoyance. He looked very similar to Elena Tear, with the short blonde hair and long legs associated with the Shark Maiden. "If you tell a soul about this, I will kill all of you and eat you. This is not what it seems."

Then they glanced at Ningyo and stopped dead, their eyes widening in shock.

Ningyo had transformed into a beautiful woman with long flowing black hair, reaching down past his ankles in two braids. His provocative jumpsuit now adorned his feminine body, split nearly down past the navel and exposing the valley of his perky breasts. He was wearing a pair of glasses, giving him a teacher-like that contrasted well off the sharp stiletto boots. In essence, she looked downright hot.

******[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] **"Hot damn is that Bayonetta?"

******[Richard McGuinness] **"I think so."

******[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] **"Well shit, give me some of that hot witch lovin'!"

******[Richard McGuinness] **"Dear God man, that's Ningyo in a woman's body!"

******[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] **"That did not discourage me at all!"

Taika's nose exploded as she backed up, trying to hide both the bleeding and her resemblance to Saprus. "Holy…fucking…shit…I now know what it means to be a man."

Aurai was even bleeding slightly from the nose, her eye twitching in shock. "Wow…she's…wow…"

Mir stood agape at her, his eyes wide. Then he smoothly slid over to her, his smile turning sly. "Helloooo pretty lady. Where have you been all my life?"

"Waiting for you," replied Ningyo, going along with the attention. He slowly traced his arms around the boy, trailing his long nails into his curly hair. "I've been waiting for a cute boy like you to come around so I can have some fun."

Mir grinned, slinking into her arms and nuzzling his head onto one of her breasts. "Oh, I like fun. Maybe you can show me your definition of fun pretty lady. I…"

He stopped, noticing how a long knife had entered his mouth while he had been speaking and was now pressed flush against his tongue. He hurriedly moved away, but not before the knife slashed and took out his entire left cheek.

Mir backed up, bleeding from the face with a huge cut in his face, exposing all the teeth on the left side of his mouth. He snarled at Ningyo through blood, the red fluid pouring down his face.

"Damn it…to be fair, you were really pretty. I've always heard to never trust a woman…"

Ningyo giggled, his knife dripping with blood. "Well, you should be more careful little boy. I'm a dangerous kind of girl."

"I think you are taking your sudden sex change a little too well," commented Bartholomew dryly.

Mir grasped at the wound in his face, trying to stop the flow of blood. "But…what if my skin was like wax? It'd easily flow back into place."

The flesh around his wound began to flow downwards, sealing it to its original form. He tugged the flesh, grinning widely.

"Well, that worked better than I expected," he admitted sheepishly. "Now, I think I'm going to kill you all now."

Aurai stepped forward, a thought filling her head. "But wait! If you flesh was made of wax, wouldn't it be melting right now? It's really hot right now."

Mir paused, then noticing how his entire body was melting into the floor. He swore loudly, his eyes wide. "Fuck me! What if my flesh was iron?"

He suddenly solidified, standing erect and full. He gritted his teeth at her, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "You…bitch. How did you figure it out?"

Aurai raised an eyebrow. "Figure what out?"

Wolfenstein grinned widely, his feminine features looking downright terrifying with his wereskag features. "Well, well, well…I have an idea of what's going on, but first…what if you had taste buds in your asshole?"

Mir suddenly vomited, collapsing to the floor in a violent spasm. He glared up at him, his eyes full of hate. "You…fucker…"

The wereskag chuckled sadistically. "His power is transferable. While he is nearby, we can use it as well. That's quite a disadvantage. So…"

Mir stepped up, fighting back his intense nausea. "What if the floor was made of lava?!"

The floor cracked and foamed as molten magma spewed from the seams, leaving the chunks of the floor floating in a bed of the hot substance. They backed up as they began to float away from him, the Grave Knight enraged.

"You honestly think _you_ are at my level?!" roared Mir, grasping at his rain jacket in fury. "I am _God_! _You_ are maggots, dust before me! So what if this roof was made of bullets?!"

The roof rapidly shifted into a huge rain of bullets above their heads, speeding down as if fired from a million guns at once. It was so thick they could not see past it, darkening the room as well.

"Get under me!" snapped Wolfenstein expanding his new arms, still able to use his abilities despite the new body. He made a huge canopy with his arms and torso, wrapping around them to shield them.

The bullets hit his body, causing him to bleed and grunt in pain. Still, his body held, not a single projectile making it through.

Mir grunted in annoyance, their sheer adaptability to his powers aggravating. "Well then, what if…?"

"What if your shoes were made of concrete?!" snapped Taika.

The Grave Knight's shoes instantly transformed, welding him to the spot. He tried to move, but they were far heavier than he imagined and made it completely impossible to do anything.

Bartholomew noticed something rapidly, picking up one of the bullets. "Hey, didn't he say earlier bullets were made of bubbles? But now…they're back to normal."

Baldemar stroked his chin, even though Gaige's face had no hair. "So if he isn't concentrating on the subject, it won't remain there. But we're still the opposite gender and the floor is still lava, so that means he is capable of multitasking. Perhaps he can only do so many things before he runs out?"

"Then we'll simply override that," stated Simo. He picked up a baseball from his pocket, twirling it in his fist. Then he threw it at the Grave Knight, arcing it high over their heads to sail down onto the Grave Knight's.

"What if baseballs were made of nitroglycerin?" he inquired, the ball changing itself into a solidified chunk of explosives as it flew.

"What if nitroglycerin was made of clouds?" snapped Mir.

"What if clouds were made of gas stations?"

The Grave Knight paused, glancing above his head at the huge object above him. "Gas stations?"

A huge 8-11 smashed onto his head and flattened him, burying him underneath the building easily. This also kicked up a storm of lava and dust from the impact, rocking the entire room from the sheer momentum.

"Hey, you think I can get another GULPEE?" inquired Aurai.

"Oh, would you like one?" inquired a voice to the side.

Floating off on the next island of the floor in the lake of lava was Mir, holding a small frozen beverage in his hand. He slurped it noisily, raising an eyebrow as he did so. "That was fairly creative blond one. It'll be fun to watch you die."

"What if that GULPEE was full of gasoline?" countered Wolfenstein with a smirk.

Mir choked as the strong liquid burned into his throat and mouth, gasping loudly. He flung it to the lava below, trying to hack out the gas he had just swallowed.

"You…fucker!" roared the Grave Knight. "I'm gonna slaughter you for that! What if oxygen was replaced with nitrogen?!"

Instantly the Vault Hunters grasped at their throats, their breath no longer sustaining them. They tried to breathe, but that did little and only made them suffocate faster.

Ningyo chuckled, his lungs still having one final breath in it. "What if…nitrogen was oxygen?"

They all took a gulp of air and stabilized themselves, the mini-panic attack they had killing their ego. They had forgotten they were fighting a boy who was fully capable of killing them with relative ease, with only his madness getting in the way of him doing so.

Wolfenstein glanced at him, his face in a smirk. "Hey, what's with that face?"

Mir paused, unsure by what he meant.

"You look so angry, so blank," stated the wereskag. He grinned widely. "Come on, smile. You have a bunch of worthy opponents in front of you. If you can't enjoy the battle, you won't be able to win."

Mir stopped, his eyes widening.

"Come on! Don't you wanna win!?" roared Wolfenstein, trying to incite his opponent into doing something stupid.

"…_win? I've never had that concept before,"_ thought Mir quietly. _"No one…no one's ever played with me before, so my sense of competition has never been there. No one's even dared to raise their hand against me until recently. But yet…I…"_

His face exploded into a huge grin, his eyes widening like saucers. _"…I want to destroy them so badly!"_

A huge colossus appeared behind him, one made of the lava and magma around them. It roared in fury as it stood straight, about the same size as a three-story building. It looked like a monstrous female statue made of molten rock, its eyes glowing with hatred. It slammed its fist down, hitting the island rock they were standing on and disintegrating it into pieces.

"He no longer needs to speak his commands!" roared Baldemar. "His power must get stronger the more he uses it!"

"That's a real bitch move!" snapped Taika.

They landed on a new platform, the huge colossus not moving an inch. The Grave Knight below it had his face darkened, his head cocked low to cast it in shadows.

Wolfenstein grinned, noticing the expression on his face. "Heh, I like that look you got kid. It really suits you. The look of a killer…"

Mir looked up, his eyes full to the brim with violent intent. His grin was enormous, dwarfing his other facial features easily and showing off the sharp points of his incisors. His childlike face no longer looked so childlike. It looked like one that belonged on a madman, a psychopath. He was giggling to himself quietly, his body actually shuddering in excitement.

"I think…I think…I want to kill you…" whispered the Grave Knight quietly, not changing his facial expression at all.


	23. Chapter 23: Roy G Biv

Mir flared out his arm and the huge fiery colossus behind him swung forward, its body moving through the lava easily to strike the Vault Hunters.

They dodged and the punch disintegrated the rock they had been standing on, rocking the entire lake of lava in the process.

Bartholomew raised his rocket launcher to his shoulder and fired a salvo of missiles, the projectiles slamming into the colossus and detonating. Finishing the magazine, he raised his right arm and fired a Cannon Shot.

The massive blast of air split a weak point in the colossus's armor on its right arm and exploded, severing its arm completely.

Aurai leaped into the air and snapped her fingers, summoning a tornado around the colossus that began to peel off its lava skin with ease. It tried to move out of the way of the storm, but the epicenter of the tornado followed it closely and gave it no room to breathe.

Roosevelt breathed a beam of energy at the colossus and took out its right eye, blinding it and sending it backwards. He flapped his wings and dodged the blind strike of the colossus before continuing his assault, his wyvern breath more than enough to damage him.

Ningyo grinned as he got an idea, flicked his metal wrists. "Everyone, back up! I'm gonna try this!"

He made his strings materialize, then he wrapped them around the colossus. They slowly sank into its magma skin, its eyes turning a dull shade of blue.

Mir looked at the colossus an instant before it slammed on top of him, its entire torso pinning him to the island of rock he had been standing on. He was now completely invisible from sight, the colossus remaining still to keep him in place.

Taika beamed, pumping her fist in triumph. "Hell yeah!"

The colossus rapidly exploded, throwing chunks of molten stone around them in a mushroom cloud. In the center was Mir, who had parts of his rain jacket torn to shreds, especially the right arm. He was panting slightly, obviously out of breath.

Wolfenstein suddenly appeared nearby and slashed the Grave Knight in the chest, not sparing him a second. Mir backed up, panicking internally.

"_Shit! If I'm late to dodge, I'm late to recover! If I'm late to recover…!"_

He felt a knife enter his back, stabbing into his stomach from behind. A quick turn determined it was Ningyo, holding his trench knife and twisting it in his body.

"_No! This can't be! I…I am not…I am not…!"_

He backed away, only to be shot twice in the chest by Aurai. He stumbled, his breath laced with blood. _"Am…am I really…going to die here?"_

He stopped dead, his eyes widening. _"I'm imagining myself dying."_

He flared out his arms and they all flew away, as if a gust of wind had carried them off. By the time they looked back up, he was no longer bleeding, standing perfectly straight with a now fully intact jacket.

"I apologize," he stated simply. "I was doing something stupid that might've ended our fun prematurely. But now, that will never happen again. I will no longer hide behind surrogates or even my own powers. I will fight you myself. Of course, fighting all seven of you won't be as fun."

He paused, a new idea forming in his mind. "Well…I think I know the perfect game to play. First, let's make this place right."

Suddenly the floor materialized back into its original shape, the red and black tile returning rapidly. Then the Vault Hunters noticed that they were back to their normal selves, their bodies no longer the opposite gender.

"Ah, I missed having tits," muttered Baldemar sheepishly bowing his head.

"God these things are a lot heavier than I remember!" exclaimed Aurai struggling slightly due to her bosom. Her trouble wasn't that unlikely, after all, she did grow nearly a foot as well, so it's likely she also had vertigo.

Mir chuckled. "Now, let's go into my toy box."

He stared up at them intensely as his eyes glowed bright, their attention instantly causing them to lock onto his eyes. Each of them then saw darkness, their minds going completely blank. Their bodies didn't collapse, but it felt as if they had fallen asleep, all thoughts leaving them.

* * *

Baldemar woke up standing, his back to a large surface. He looked around rapidly, the environment alien in every sense of the word. It looked like a huge abandoned toy box, with drastically enlarged toy blocks and assorted scattered around him. He saw a teddy bear as big as a skyscraper in the distance, its cold eyes watching him and seeming to follow him.

He also noticed how he no longer had any weapons, leaving him only with his Combat Clone system on his belt. He grunted in annoyance, not at all pleased.

"That ain't really fair," murmured the inventor walking forward. "Of course, I don't know what to…"

He was interrupted by a large chariot smashing into him, carrying him forward. He hooked his arm into the device in front of him, noticing he was hanging off the small bar that kept the horses of the chariot from scattering off. He climbed up and glanced ahead, then his eyes widened.

Riding the chariot was Mir, his grin immense. He was now wearing a gladiator helmet with a blood red rain jacket, the front of it opening and showing off his prepubescent chest. His right hand was gripping the reins to the horses while his left held a huge trident, the end of which stopped nearly a solid meter above his head.

He tapped the front of the chariot and a small compartment opened up in the front. A crossbow stuck out of it, one that looked automatic in nature.

Baldemar let go of the bar as the crossbow bolts flew from the compartment, sliding under the chariot to avoid them. He rolled to a stop and stood, panting and trying to think of a strategy.

Mir burst into laughter, amused he had nearly run him over. "Come on, think of a weapon! In this toy box, only weapons and vehicles are allowed to be made! Go on, have a try!"

The inventor paused, glancing at his hands curiously. He imagined a huge machine gun in his grip, one that had a magazine as large as his head.

Suddenly metal parts appeared around his hand, wrapping around his forearm telepathically. A trigger and guard formed around his index finger, the stock of the gun sliding up to his shoulder. The barrel grew towards his other hand, settling in easily in his grip. The magazine came to life as well, immense bullet sliding into the gun from the clip. A sight slammed into the place near his eye, allowing him to aim precisely through it.

"…awesome…" muttered Baldemar pulling the trigger. He didn't even want to think about if he could design something like this in real life, because if he did he would never leave this place.

The gun fired but had no recoil at all, the bullets flying out as easily as if they were darts. He swept around with the gun, trying to hit the charioteer but missing the shots due to his insane speed.

Mir grinned and adjusted his horses, charging straight at him. Tapping the dashboard again, a mini-gun popped out of the compartment from before and began unloading its own bullets. The projectiles met in between them and exploded, each shot perfectly deflecting off the other one, not a single one meeting their intended target.

The chariot finally slammed into Baldemar, throwing him into the air and causing him to lose his grip on the gun. As soon as he did so it disappeared, though he knew exactly what to do. Imagining a shotgun with a huge blunderbuss barrel, he felt the gun materialize in his hands as he was falling back down to earth.

He slammed into Mir perfectly, planting the barrel of the shotgun in his head. He was about to fire it when Mir threw him off, launching him off the chariot and off the edge of the platform they had been on.

Baldemar slammed into the next platform a few stories down below, though his body did not break or do anything abnormal besides have the wind knocked out of it. He stood back up, looking around. The platforms they had been fighting on were huge toy blocks, all of which were suspended in the air. There were numerous more below and above them, making it seem like they were fighting in an infinite realm.

He heard the chariot closely following behind him and he glanced down at his feet, noticing how the blocks before him were perfectly sloped down, like a ramp. Imaging a pair of rocket skates, he began to sprint down as they materialized around his feet. When he felt the wheels begin to turn, he stopped running, letting them propel him forward easily.

Just in time. Mir flew off the above platform and slammed into his, the horses almost toppling over the edge before adjusting themselves. The Grave Knight was grinning widely, speeding the chase up as fast as he could.

Baldemar turned as the skates kept propelling him forward, imagining a large machine gun again. This time, it grew wheels and slammed into the platform, allowing him additional stability as he moved. He slid back the handle and began firing the gun, its design very similar to a turret in fashion.

Mir returned fire eagerly, laughing madly in excitement. "Excellent! Most excellent! I knew you all would be perfect for my games!"

* * *

Aurai sprinted down the line of toy blocks, panting out of exhaustion. Leaping over a gap, she turned and materialized a SMG in her hands and fired it in the same motion.

The bullets were deflected by a huge array of chains, all of which connected to Mir. He was now wearing a bright orange rain coat with the coils of chain around his forearms and chest, the metal hanging down on him heavily. He was sprinting after her with the chains following him, sparking the ground beneath him as well.

She tossed the SMG away and imagined up a shotgun, feeling the cool grip of it appear in her palms. Sliding to a stop, she raised her gun and aimed right at his head, where the Grave Knight Mark was supposed to be. Then she realized that a chain was wrapped around her face, right under her nose.

She was flung bodily away from him and smashed into a wall, more chains wrapped her against the surface tightly. She struggled and tried to get out, but that only caused the chains to tighten up and cause intense bruising everywhere.

Mir stood before her giggling, his hand against his mouth as if he was trying to prevent himself from exploding. "My, my, my, you really are pretty. I think I want to have some _fun_ with you. Come on, this is my real body, not some cheap duplicate like earlier. In fact, all of me in this world are the real me. I might invite some of the other mes here just so we could have _fun_ together."

Aurai narrowed her eyes, then snapped her fingers to the side. A tornado appeared next to her and made the chains wrap around it, pulling them off her body easily. She leaped off the platform and punched him in the face, stunning him.

"That's not fair!" he objected backing up, grabbing her ankle with a chain and throwing her into another wall. "You have to use a weapon you make up!"

Aurai grunted as she hit the wall, then created a gauntlet on her arm. Raising it high, it extended and expanded into a massive metal fist that was as big as a skyscraper, blocking out the light from above and casting Mir into a shadow.

Then she slammed it on top of him, denting the toy blocks beneath them and shaking the entire platform.

Aurai felt the chains around her move again and was tugged further away, flying through the air held by her ankle. The giant fist disappeared, revealing that Mir was still alright, with only his hair messed up. He was laughing maniacally, clearly pleased by what she had done.

"Now this is fun!" he roared licking his lips. "I'm going to have so much more with you, my sweet diva named Aurai!"

* * *

Simo Hathcock turned back and fired his new automatic sniper rifle, the barrel flaming hot. He adjusted the handlebars on his motorcycle and turned to dodge the block in front of him, reloading the gun with his other hand smoothly.

Mir followed closely behind, his indigo coat flying in the wind. He raised his shotgun and fired, the buckshot reflecting off the walls smoothly like pinballs.

Simo raised a large shield and blocked the shots, his sniper rifle in the same hand the shield was strapped to. Returning fire as well, he noticed how he was rapidly approaching a ramp and grinned. He knew exactly what to do.

They both flew off the ramp, the sniper leaping off the motorcycle as he did so. It rapidly began to transform, the wheels flattening out and turning horizontal along with the rest of the bike. A new engine roared to life inside of it as it changed its shape, sliding itself into a satisfactory position for its new usage.

Simo slammed onto his new hoverboard, now riding on top of the blocks around them. He whirled around and kept up his firing, Mir still using a slower and less agile motorcycle as transportation.

The Grave Knight felt a bullet hit his gas tank and his eyes widened, knowing instantly the death sentence that entailed. His bike exploded in a cloud of fire, perhaps a little too much for just a regular motorcycle.

The sniper paused, trying to see through the smoke. "Huh…that couldn't have done it. There's no way…"

A huge steel monstrosity burst from the flames and revved its engine at him, barreling at him at full speed. It looked similar to a tractor, albeit one with immense spikes and blades that chewed through the toy blocks like they were made of paper. At the controls was Mir, who had a maniacal grin on his face from his new toy.

"Adjust your pace or lose your face!" yelled the Grave Knight whooping in joy.

Simo grunted and sped away, throwing aside the sniper rifle as he did so. "Darn. I hope the others are doing alright. This guy is freaking nuts."

* * *

Taika dodged the claw aimed at her head and materialized a pistol, raising it par easily. Loading Mir's chest up with three shots, she was interrupted by him grabbing her in a claw and tossing her aside. She rolled to a stand, tossing the pistol away and making a new one.

Mir had armed himself with a griffin-like weapon set that included claws and a huge set of wings, leaving only his legs to keep him standing. He was wearing a yellow coat around his body, the back of it torn apart to allow the wings to be mounted to his bare back.

"Come on, come on, don't you wanna play?" inquired Mir snapping his claws tauntingly. "I still have plenty of juice left."

Taika summoned Roosevelt as fast as she could, grabbing his collar and flying herself into the air. Mir closely followed, easily keeping pace with the flying wyvern.

"Come on, come on little dragon, don't run away!" taunted the Grave Knight. "I hate chasing my playmates!"

"I am not a dragon!" objected Roosevelt, blasting a few beams from his mouth for good measure. "I am a wyvern, as I do not possess a front set of claws!"

"Oh? Is that so? Well…"

Mir suddenly sped forward in a gust of wind, grabbing the wyvern's legs with his claws. Then he plummeted straight down, tearing the limbs clean off Roosevelt's body.

"Well now you have no sets of claws!" yelled Mir grinning madly, holding the digital limbs as they disappeared into dust.

Roosevelt faded into data, causing Taika to fall back to the ground. She stood up and manifested a sniper rifle, pulling the trigger as fast as she could.

Mir blocked the bullets with his wings and leaped to cover behind a block, flapping his wings to get into the air as fast as he could. Twirling around to face her, he swooped down and grabbed her by the head, slamming her bodily into the platform below and dragging her across it.

The huntress gritted her teeth and created a shotgun in her hand, planting it against his head and pulling the trigger. This caused him to flip and slam back into the ground, his head slowly regenerating back.

Taika stood up and adjusted her arm, having the limb torn from its socket due to being dragged across the ground. She noticed how the Grave Knight was already getting back up, which caused her to scowl in frustration.

"He's got a Mark, but I can't even tell if that's the real him or not," she murmured in aggravation. "I need to figure that out, or run and find one of my…"

She stopped, noticing a huge hole having entered her chest. She glanced up, noticing how Mir was holding a giant silenced shotgun in his hands, the barrel smoking slightly.

"Fuck…me…" she gasped collapsing to the floor, slowly bleeding from the wound in her lung.

Mir giggled lowly, as if he was finding difficulty breathing, before exploding in mad laughter that filled the sky. "Hell yeah! I killed you! I won! I love winning! That man was right, this is fun!"

He turned, sniffing the air and adjusting his yellow coat. "I think I'll join one of the others. This one wasn't that fun."

* * *

Bartholomew revved up his new chainsaw and blocked the strike to his chest, gritting his teeth in effort. Throwing his enemy away from his with a tackle, he slashed at him with the revving blade on his forearm.

Mir dodged to the side, holding a huge nodachi in his grip that wasn't even slightly chipped from the attack. He leaped back at him, ruffling his violet coat with the rapid movements.

The pirate stepped back and slugged his opponent right in the face, knocking him away easily. He then slashed upwards and hit Mir in the chest with the chainsaw, eating through his chest with ease.

The Grave Knight gasped, then grinned widely as he kept coming, his side already growing back in place. He had taken numerous similar blows during their duel, and none of them had stuck.

"Come on! You can take me out!" taunted Mir. "It's not like I'm that strong! Perhaps it's just that you're weak! Come on, come on! You…!"

Bartholomew roared and punched him with his robot hand, raising him into the air from how hard he did so. Then he opened his palm, his eyes wide in anger.

"Cannon Shot!"

The Grave Knight flew into the air like a rocket, his coat torn to shreds from the close proximity of the shot.

Bartholomew generated a massive chainsaw spear in his grip, the entire head of it a revolving blade nearly a meter tall. He raised it high, bracing it against the ground as best he could.

Mir fell right on top of it, his back taking the main impact. He shuddered and bucked as the chainsaw slowly ate through his body, being thrown into spasms as the blade slowly appeared through his torso. Then, he finally split in half, his two halves hitting the floor with a wet splat.

Bartholomew grunted and made the chainsaw spear disappeared, his entire torso covered in blood. "Damn, this kid…no matter what we do to him, he doesn't die. Even hitting his Mark does little. What the hell can kill him?"

The two halves of Mir then reached up and stabbed him with their hands, the fingers acting like blades as they pierced his liver. He coughed blood, amazed that he didn't even need to regenerate to be able to fight back.

"You all are not capable of comprehending my power," spat the two halves, their grins huge. "I am God after all. And you really bore me."

Bartholomew collapsed to the floor, his injury crippling in terms of blood loss.

Mir finally regenerated into one and stood up, adjusting his violet coat as well. "Well…time to find someone to entertain me. I think I know just who to go to."

* * *

Ningyo sidestepped away from the blade near his face and raised his right arm. A small nozzle vented a huge gust of pressured air from it, the gas slightly opaque and grey in color. Raising his other hand, he flipped the small device in his palm.

A huge explosion emitted from in front of him, throwing him and his target back several meters. He stood straight, shaking the ash out of his hair as he did so.

"Damn, you really are durable," he commented dryly. "I've done this three times, and all I've done is singe your coat."

Mir giggled, throwing back the hair from his face as he did so. This one was the real Mir, the blue-coat wearing one. "Yeah, I told you already. I cannot die. I am God. You are but insects to me. And picking such an odd weapon as yours…you really are an interesting man."

Ningyo grinned, raising the odd contraption on his body. On his right arm was a tank full of combustible gas and a nozzle on a trigger, with his left arm having a lighter. It worked by spraying the area with his right arm full of the gas and lighting it with his left. It was remarkably effective, or it would've been if he wasn't fighting a Grave Knight.

Mir adjusted his sleeves, the ends of which were burnt off. "Well, I can sense what the other mes are doing right about now. Your friends aren't doing too well. They were fun, but I'm afraid even they can't satisfy me. Don't be offended, no one can. So…"

Suddenly he was thrown bodily off his feet, the explosion catching him off-guard. He landed with a roll, his left arm burnt clean off in the process. He glared at his opponent, anger flowing over his face.

"Don't talk and waste my time," snapped Ningyo coldly. "I'm done playing with brats like you. You didn't die all those other times, so you made this business for me. And business is what I'm damn good at, so you better be ready to die."

Mir stood back up, his mouth foaming. "It's rude to INTERRUPT OTHER PEOPLE!"

He manifested an immense automatic grenade launcher and began firing it, the trickster nimbly dodged the shots as best he could. Mir was roaring in fury with every shot, his eyes wide. "Die, die, die damn you! Die and go to Hell!"

Another explosion hit near him and caused him to stumble, his right leg full of shrapnel. He whirled to face his opponent, then noticed that Ningyo had added another nozzle to his arm, one hooked up to a tank on his back.

Ningyo sprayed him with a clear liquid from the tank, the compound reeking of toxic fumes. The Grave Knight coughed, wiping his eyes of the compound. "What is this crap?!"

Ningyo grinned, raising his trigger. "Gasoline." Then he pulled it.

The Grave Knight screamed as his flesh was instantly broiled from the surrounding liquid, his jacket vaporizing clean off him. His skin turned into ash that flew away from his body, filling the air with it. His eyes melted and pooled down to the floor, leaving his sockets now completely empty. His tongue fizzled like a clump of fat in a skillet, his teeth turning black around it as well. He shuddered and collapsed to his knees, finally disappearing into dust.

The trickster chuckled, turning away smoothly. "Well, that settles it."

He paused, unsure of something. "Wait. I'm still in here. So…"

He felt a huge blade enter his side, causing him to cough blood. He looked behind him, his eyes widening.

Mir stood behind him with a large sword in his grip, his flesh still burnt off. Regardless, the Grave Knight's legs and lower torso were almost fully regenerated, with only his jacket being lost forever. His hair was even coming back, his eyes slowly obtaining their color as well.

"Nice try, but that won't do it," spat the Grave Knight coldly, his lips right next to his ear. He kissed his cheek gently, grabbing his shoulder as well. "So, goodbye."

He threw Ningyo to the ground, flicking the blade to release the blood along the edge. He grinned, looking around for a moment.

"Heh, one of them is holding up a lot better than I expected," he commented, shouldering the blade on his shoulder. "Let's see if I can help."

* * *

Wolfenstein and Mir stood face to face, one of their faces blank in composure while the other had a mad look in his eyes. Guess which one was which.

Mir giggled, licking his lips eagerly. "God, I get to fight you. Lucky me. You really riled me up with that talk from earlier. I think I might actually enjoy my fight with you."

"Enjoy?" inquired the wereskag. "Hmm, interesting. I honestly cannot recall the last time I properly enjoyed one of my fights. Even against someone like Nitro or Jackal Cash was not what I wanted. I want an opponent that is an animal, that is just as bloodthirsty as me to win. It's hard to find those anymore."

The Grave Knight barked with laughter, throwing his green robe openly dramatically. "Well come on! Let's get it on! I ain't scared of you!"

Wolfenstein looked up blankly, then his grin exploded like hot water on a grease fire. "Really?! You should be Mir! I am the top dog around here! You ain't got shit on me!"

Mir backed up, having been cowed by the sudden outburst. He gritted his teeth in defiance, weakly trying to show he still meant business. "Y-y-you can't psych me out. I…I am God. I…"

"Am about to die!" finished the wereskag transforming rapidly, sprinting across platform eagerly.

The Grave Knight conjured a huge metal fist around his right arm and punched, but Wolfenstein easily dodged it and slashed him in the chest.

Mir gasped as the blood flew from his wound, before he was lifted off his feet by his ankle and hung like a fish. He looked into the eyes of Wolfenstein, who was now upside down. Or more specially, it was him who was upside down.

The wereskag thrashed him around wildly, each impact denting the ground under them and shattering ribs. After the third one, he felt his skull dent and his neck splinter. The fifth hit broke his shoulder blades and made his arms hang limply. The seventh hit caused his leg to dislocate from being gripped so hard, the knee joint doing the same thing as well.

Wolfenstein took one final look at him, grinning widely.

"Heh, look at God, bleeding in my hands…" he commented dryly, then he threw Mir into the side of a block, shattering the entire structure and burying him underneath it.

Wolfenstein transformed back into normal, but he kept his blood thirst active for just a moment longer. He put his hands on his hips, licking his lips of the blood that had splattered from the previous beatdown. "Come on God! Can't you do better than that?!"

Mir lay in the pile of debris, his head lying back on a mound of stone. He was breathing faintly, blood trailing down his face from his mouth. He was slowly regenerating, but this particular fight had been hard on him, the sheer psychological damage slowing his healing.

"_Wow…he's very good. So good I couldn't predict it. He…he really is fun. But…he did help me with something. I now know what I want. I want…I want…I want…"_

Suddenly Mir stood up, his hair flying off his face as steam poured from his pores. His eyes widened as his muscles and bones shifted back into place, accelerating his usual healing as much as he could.

"_I want to win! I wanna win, I wanna win, I wanna win! For the first time in my life, I want to win at something!"_

He raised his right arm, conjuring a huge stone boulder in his grip. It grew from the size of a beach ball to a house, all the way to the size of a baseball stadium. He grinned and slammed it on top of his opponent, the entire toy box feeling the impact of the blow. The dust cloud swept over him and blinded him, though that did not change his expression.

The dust cleared and he looked around, noticing no noise or movement. He laughed loudly, clearly pleased with himself.

"Heh, heh, heh, ha, hahahahahahaha!" he roared loudly, his eyes wide with glee. "I killed him! Hell yeah, I totally fucking killed him! I won! I won!"

He ran over the boulder, sneering at it like it was his opponent's gravestone. "What do you think Wolfenstein?! What do you think of my victory?!"

Mir grabbed the boulder, laughing right into the surface and doing a motion disturbingly similar to grinding. "Guess what?! I won! And you lost! What do you think of that?!"

He giggled, finally calming down. "Well, I guess there's no point in stopping here. My other copies need help. Goodbye Wolfenstein, hope it's not too hot in Hell."

He turned to leave, then heard a noise from behind him. He whirled around, his eyes widening. "No fucking way…it's impossible…"

**[Richard McGuinness] "CLIFFHANGER MODE ACTIVATE!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "GODDAMN IT I HATE THESE THINGS!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "WHY ARE WE YELLING?!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "CAPS LOCK BROKE AGAIN!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "SHIT FUCK!"**


	24. Chapter 24: Imagine

Taika staggered forward, holding her side from the previous injuries inflicted upon her. She had managed to seal up the wound for the time being, but she wouldn't be fighting until the painkillers kicked in some more. She had tracked one of her comrade's signals on her HUD and noticed how it no longer was moving, meaning one of two things: They were incapacitated, or were restrained in some way. Either option means they required help.

She walked around the corner and saw Bartholomew lying on the ground, groaning and grunting in pain. He was holding two wounds in his gut, though the blood sputtering through his fingers obviously meant he wasn't doing a good job healing it.

"Shit…" spat the pirate lowly, raising his flash above his head to stare into it. He shook it a few times, not a drop coming out of it. "Why is my rum always gone when I need it for painkiller?"

Taika stepped over, grinning widely. "Hey big guy. Need a hand?"

"More like a drink," muttered Bartholomew. "Either way, glad to see ya. Got any stuff to stop this bleeding?"

The huntress nodded, crouching down and pulling out a med kit. "This is going to hurt something awful, since those wounds are too big to sew."

He gritted his teeth, pulling out a thick metal rod from his pocket. He slid it into his mouth, gripping it with his teeth. "I'm ready," he spoke through a mouthful of metal.

Taika opened her med kit and drew a small metal device that looked similar to a clothing iron. Pressing a button on the side, she pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and doused the wound. The pirate grunted in pain, tears filling his eyes.

"Damn it…why do I cry when a pretty lady is working on me?" he inquired jokingly.

The huntress chuckled. "That was the easy part." She raised the iron, the long metal edge of it red hot. "This is the hard part. If you pass out, I won't judge."

Then she pressed the iron onto his first wound, baking the hole in his body shut with its intense heat. He bit down on the stick so hard it slowly began to bent, his fingers digging into the floor below him. He roared in agony, his mouth muffled from the stick in his mouth.

Taika lifted the iron back up, coughing from the smell of burning flesh. The first wound was now cauterized, though the other one was still just as open. She gritted her own teeth, not at all pleased. "There's another. I seriously recommend passing out."

* * *

Baldemar slid across the ground and turned the corner, dragging his hand behind him to stabilize himself as he moved. His rocket skates kept him speeding forward, his hands holding a fully automatic SMG that reflected its bullets behind him.

Mir followed close behind him, his chariot still charging forward nearly as fast as him. The minigun in the front fired rapidly, though its accuracy was fairly bad al things considering. Of course racing across a giant toy block with rapid curves and bumps made it very hard to hit anything with a shot, so that was a forgivable offense.

The inventor knew he couldn't fight him off like this, as he had inferior wheels and firearms at his disposal at the moment. He either had to create new ones, costing him precious time that he could be shot during, or…

He tapped his wrist, creating an identical Combat Clone next to him. They both split up, though this didn't faze Mir at all.

"I know which one is you!" roared the Grave Knight adjusting his horses. "I can at least keep track of that!"

Both Baldemar's chuckled, amused by his choice. He had picked the right one, which was exactly what they had hoped for. The Combat Clone turned around and flanked Mir, now firing his gun at him from behind.

The Grave Knight swore as his back was torn to shreds, turning down another alleyway to dodge the shots. _"Shit, why did I not see that?! It was so obvious they were going to flank me! No matter, I can…!"_

The horses and chariot exploded under him, throwing him into the air as if he was tugged upwards by God. He had hit a landmine, one that had obviously been set up beforehand.

"_They set up a freaking mine?! When did they…?"_

He stopped stunned, realizing exactly where they were. It was right at the beginning of his chase of them, meaning they had backtracked all the way here without him knowing. It was a genius maneuver, and he hadn't seen any of it.

Mir slammed into the ground, ripping a wheel off his flaming chariot and mounting it to his arm. He slid into a battle stance, the wheel now acting as a surrogate shield for him, with his trident as a spear.

"Come on man! Fight me like you mean it!" he taunted.

Baldemar and his Combat Clone suddenly appeared, both of them speeding forward on their skates rapidly. They glanced at each with a wide grin.

"You want us to fight you close?" snapped both of them. "Fine, we can do that!"

The Combat Clone formed a large vest over his body, one that looked similar to a flak vest. He flew at the Grave Knight with wide arms, his smile huge.

He grasped at Mir's shield tightly, his hands wrapped around the edge. Then he exploded, destroying the entire thing and taking off the Grave Knight's arm as well.

The real Baldemar slid in and grappled Mir by the lapels, grinning widely.

"You cheated," muttered the Grave Knight astonished.

"Hey, I am up close ain't I?" inquired the inventor. He held up a grenade, flicking the pin out of it and sliding it into Mir's hood. "Here, keep this close. See you later."

He shoved Mir away, running away as fast as he could. The Grave Knight panicked and grasped at the explosive, only for it to detonate right beside his ear as he was pulling it out. This caused him to instantly collapse as his entire upper head was destroyed, his tongue and Grave Knight Mark turning to putty against the ground. He slowly disappeared into dust, though this was one was not real one, so it didn't matter.

Baldemar grunted, wiping the ash from his arm. "Damn, that was close. Better see if anyone else needs my help, though I better be careful or I might get a shank in the back with my luck."

* * *

Aurai dodged the next series of chains and fired a large rocket launcher behind her. Mir deflected the rockets with his chains easily, not moving from his original spot at all. He was laughing maniacally, his orange coat now completely open in the front and exposing his chest.

"Come on Aurai, let's play!" taunted Mir, licking his lips. "Out of all the Vault Hunters, you might be my favorite! Well, except for that one man, but you're definitely one of the top!"

The Siren narrowed her eyes, her inner cold personality revealing itself. "Unfortunately Mir, I find you to be a detestable bastard, and I do not wish to associate with you any further. You have no empathy towards your subordinates, as shown by your casual murder of Noyade Sable, and you show little humanity even for a Grave Knight."

He giggled, the comments more amusing then insulting. "Oh, the old breaking speech eh? Go on, I'll humor you. What can you say against me?"

Aurai grunted. "Fine. You say you are a child who asks questions for his powers, so let me ask you a few questions. Did Cassius get you on his side for your usefulness to his goals, or because of your overwhelming power? Does he really care about you as a person at all, or are you just a means to an end for him?"

"I am a loyal soldier to Lord Cassius, my master," stated Mir calmly. "I am but a tool, a God on a leash."

"A God? Hmm, intriguing. Last time I checked, gods are imperfect themselves. What is your imperfection? Arrogance? Insanity? Or maybe just an overwhelming tendency to become someone's bitch when they ask you nicely?"

Mir snickered. "You're wrong. I work for him because I want to."

"Really? Be honest, could you kill Cassius if you really wanted to?"

The Grave Knight paused, showing a hole in his argument.

Aurai grinned. "Ah, so you can't. So you are bound by your fear towards him, like a dog who fears the lash. It's quite sad actually. Your inadequacies must be numerous if you cannot kill a man with your powers. You can create anything at all, and yet you are unable to take out your leader because of your weakness."

"I am not weak!" snapped Mir.

"Really? You are just a child after all. A weak, spineless child who laps at the heels of any man who wants your help."

"I am _not_!"

"Let me guess: You're so desperate for affection that you are willing to let yourself be useful to anyone you can find, as you take usefulness for affection any day. Your search for someone who just gives a shit about you is so great you'd be willing to lie down and die for them, most likely from lack of parents also. Ah, Freud is turning in his grave because of you."

Mir had tears running down his face, the grip on his chains like iron. He gritted his teeth, his face getting red. "Bitch…SHUT THE FUCK UP! What do you know about me?! Like you know anything about me!"

Aurai rapidly drew her gun, raising it to eye level. "I know a lot actually. Your behavior told me everything. You're dealing with a junior psychologist here. Besides…"

She cocked the hammer on the gun. "I also met a man like you once. His name was Suture, and unlike him, you won't be getting a second chance for you crimes. Don't worry, I won't let you suffer in your pitiful life any longer."

She pulled the trigger, the bullet instantly tearing through the Grave Knight Mark and killing him. Mir collapsed into dust, his body fading into nothingness as well.

Aurai grunted, tossing the gun away. "Didn't think that would work so well. That was all guesswork too. Suture would be so proud, except for that part I mentioned him in. Hmm, oh well. Better find someone who needs my help."

**[Richard McGuinness] "Wow, didn't think Aurai was that much of a bitch."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Mir pissed her off. I expected her to grind his face into a pillar like her clone, but she instead decided to go all Hannibal Lector on him. I don't really mind, but still."**

* * *

Simo Hathcock accelerated his board as much as he could, his hair flying off his face as he sped forward. The giant tractor behind him was still eating away at the obstacles, turning the entire platform into a level ground. Mir was laughing with joy as he piloted the monstrosity, his eyes wide in madness.

"Slow down and let me kill you!" snapped Mir, whipping his hair out of his face with an off-hand.

The sniper grunted in annoyance, trying to think of what to do to stop his pursuer. "That thing eats the buildings and blocks like they were made of paper. So there's nothing I can summon to stop the blades. Of course…those blades aren't indestructible. I wonder…"

He flicked his wrist, making a huge propane tank in his grip. He tossed it behind him, the tank bouncing and rolling towards the tractor.

It hit the blades, then it exploded under the pressure. This caused a chain reaction inside the tractor, finally ending with the fuel tank and destroying the entire thing, engulfing it in flames.

Simo stopped his hoverboard with a slide, panting from exhaustion. That plan had actually worked a lot better than he expected. Actually, it was way too easy. Something wasn't right.

A rocket flew from the smoke, causing him to panic and swerve to dodge it. Mir appeared from the smoke, his own hoverboard below his feet. He was also holding a rocket launcher on his shoulder, having remarkably good aim all things considering.

"I'm back bitch!" snapped the Grave Knight with a huge grin.

Simo manifested a revolver in his grip and turned, firing his gun as fast as he could. Mir nimbly outmaneuvered the shots, raising the launcher to his shoulder to fire back.

The rocket took out Simo's board from under him, causing him to fall and roll across the ground. He grunted and looked up, seeing Mir rapidly approaching him in an attempt to ram him. At the speed he was going, it was likely any direct hit would kill him.

The sniper grunted and made a machete in his hand, raising it to his shoulder level and spinning.

The blade ate through Mir's ankle like butter, causing him to stumble and fall forward. The board flew off into the distance, the Grave Knight no longer attached to it. He struggled and grasped at his leg in pain, the bloody stump leaking gore across the ground.

"You…asshole…" snapped Mir angrily. "You…you…"

Simo walked over to him and put the machete in his mouth, placing the tip of it right onto his tongue. He slid it right towards the back, under the part where the tongue attaches to the mouth.

"Mir…never speak again…" stated the sniper coldly.

He cut the organ clean out of his head, causing him to scream in agony and gush blood like a geyser. He struggled and spasmed, though the sniper slammed his hand into his body to keep him still.

Then he implanted the machete into Mir's forehead, instantly ending his life. He disappeared into dust slowly, his eyes still wide from astonishment.

Simo stood up, tossing the machete aside disgusted. "I apologize for killing you, but it was necessary. I hate killing children, but you unfortunately are not my first. Goodbye."

* * *

The giant boulder shook and trembled as something underneath it moved, similar to an earthquake going off. Mir stared at it astonished, not believing what he was seeing underneath it.

"No way…it can't…be possible…" he murmured astonished.

Suddenly the boulder exploded, a figure sprinting out of it rapidly. It was Wolfenstein, though his coat was long since destroyed, his entire upper torso now transformed completely into its wereskag form. He roared in anger and bloodlust, charging at him with all his might.

He punched Mir in the face so hard the Grave Knight felt his spine shatter, his cheekbones liquefying under the intense blow. He staggered back and took a knee to the chest, his stomach bursting like a balloon from the jab.

Wolfenstein grabbed him by the back of the head and threw him forward. The Grave Knight slammed into a toy block and flew through it, landing on the next one after. Looking up, he saw the wereskag charge clean through the last obstacle like a freight train. He dodged it nimbly, sprinting away as fast as he could.

"_He's a monster…I can't fight that…gotta keep running…gotta get away…"_

The wereskag charged him instantly and swiped at him with a claw, hitting his back and causing him to spin around. Mir grunted and spun with his leg, turning it into metal as he did so. This split Wolfenstein's leg clean in half from the knee down, the rest of the limb flying off to the side.

The wereskag didn't care at all. He slashed at him and hit him in the face, punching a hole clean through his cheek. Mir grabbed his arm with a huge metal gauntlet and broke it off, throwing the limb aside as well. Still using the gauntlet, he threw him into a toy block, cementing him inside of it.

The Grave Knight grabbed him with one hand and slammed his gauntlet onto his temple, splitting the skag skull beneath it. He did this again, and again, and again, until he was punching what looked like a chunk of hamburger under his fist.

Wolfenstein stopped moving, causing Mir to stop his punches. He sighed, then began running away as fast as he could.

"_Gotta get away…gotta find reinforcements…I can't take this guy on by myself…"_

The wereskag chuckled lowly, feeling his skull slowly coming back into shape. He was panting lowly, his eyes closed from the pain.

"_Run…run my prey…I…I…I…"_

Mir turned behind him stunned, still running as hard as he could. The wereskag had already gotten himself out of the rubble and was covering ground fast, even without an arm and a leg. He was also on fire, the sheer heat released from his regeneration enough to cause combustion in his body.

"_Now I'm finally having fun!" _

Wolfenstein grabbed the Grave Knight by the collar and tackled him, both of them sliding across the ground and kicking up the chunks of the block they were on. He grasped at Mir's face with a claw, then shredded through it and ripped it off.

The Grave Knight screamed as his eyes and nose were completely severed from his body, the bones underneath them shattering under the grip. The scream kicked up the dust around them and made all the fur on Wolfenstein curl, though he maintained his grip on him regardless.

Mir panicked and bucked forward, narrowly escaping his grip as his eyes began to grow back. He sprinted ahead and began climbing a toy block, desperately trying to escape as best he could. He dug his nails into the block as he climbed, panting heavily in fear and terror.

Wolfenstein grabbed his leg and pulled down hard, causing the Grave Knight's fingers to splinter and break off. He threw him onto the ground, tackling him again and making damn sure he wasn't getting away. Raising a hand high in a huge effort, he slammed it down hard, splitting Mir's left arm off his body and causing it to fly away.

Then the wereskag grinned widely, reaching down with his mouth and ripping through his neck and jaw, exposing his target. A pale fleshy organ in the center of what used to be his mouth, still beating with a faint pulse. The tongue, with a small Grave Knight Mark at its back.

Wolfenstein licked his lips, then leaned forward to take a bite.

A hand grabbed him by the throat and threw him off Mir, landing bodily across the platform with a roll. He looked up, his eyes narrowing in annoyance.

Three more Mirs stood alongside the downed one, the blue, violet and yellow ones respectively. Each one had a huge grin on their face, clearly impressed.

"Damn Green, he really did a number on you," commented Violet, glancing at his fellow cheekily. "Seriously, you look like you got stuck in a garbage disposal."

Yellow barked viciously, crouching down to examine the injuries mockingly. "Wow, he must've been damn tough if he did all this to you."

Green was whimpering in pain slightly, his flesh slowly growing back as fast as it could.

Then a boot slammed through his head, splattering the leg attached to it in blood and gore. The Grave Knight slowly disappeared into nothingness, ash flying into the wind slowly.

Yellow and Violet glanced at Blue, or the real Mir as it would be.

"Hey man, was that necessary?" inquired Yellow.

"Yeah, a little harsh," commented Violet.

Mir smirked, clearly pleased by what he had done. He wiped the boot on the ground, the wet bits of Green's brain matter still clinging to it. "It's no matter. He wasn't really me after all."

He glanced up, noticing how Wolfenstein was lying in a pile of debris, slowly regenerating from his wounds. He was obviously sane enough to not attack all of them at once, though that would not save him for long.

"Wow, you are really tough," complimented Mir honestly. "I must say, I really am having fun right now. But I think it's about time we ended this game."

"Couldn't agree more," spoke a voice from behind him.

The three Mirs turned around quickly, but not before Yellow and Violet were dragged off their feet by Wolfenstein's long claws. He grappled with them and morphed them into his body, swallowing them and preventing them from moving or attacking him. Then he bunkered down hard, curling into a ball with a hard bone exoskeleton.

Blue, the real Mir, whirled to face his new opponent before fire overwhelmed his body, causing him to scream in agony. He collapsed to the ground, panting with the limited oxygen around him.

Ningyo stood in front of him, his side sealed up with a large burn wound. Judging from the flaming hot knife on his belt, it was probably self-inflicted. He was holding the nozzle and trigger high, both of which were trailing with smoke.

"That cut you gave me was deep," stated the trickster coldly. "It hurt like a bitch sealing that thing up. But now I got you."

He released another explosion, causing Mir to scream again as his regenerating flesh was seared twice. The Grave Knight tried to stand, but his legs were so burnt that the muscles and sinews could no longer bend at all, caking him to the floor.

"You can regenerate your Mark with your thoughts, which explains why you haven't died so many times over," explained Ningyo narrowing his eyes. "Of course, even you have limits. So let's see, how many times can I melt you before you finally die?"

He did another three explosions in quick succession, Mir crying out in pain the whole time. His right eye finally stopped coming back, leaving a huge hole in his head that was perfectly cauterized shut. His hair and lips were also gone, a few of his teeth disappearing as well. He was no longer even kneeling, now lying on the floor and futilely grasping for breath.

Ningyo paused, then did it again. And again. And again. His face was so blank and composed it looked eerily similar to Wolfenstein, though his eyes were full of cold fire instead of indifference.

Mir flew out of the cloud of smoke with a blade on his forearm, tears pouring off his only intact eye as he moved. He was panting desperately for breath, leaving his mouth open to expose the fact his Grave Knight Mark was completely gone, having been cindered off like a bad stain. He brought his arm back to strike, wanting to take out at least one more person for he went.

The trickster stabbed him in the chest with his own blade, causing him to stop dead. Planting the nozzle in the Grave Knight's mouth, he filled his head with gas before raising the trigger in front of his eye.

"Mir…stop breathing…" ordered Ningyo coldly before pulling the trigger.

Mir's head detonated from the inside, his body crumpling without guidance. He collapsed to the ground, though he oddly had a few last thoughts as he faded away.

"_Did…did I lose? Forgive me Lord Cassius, I…I did not mean to lose…I'm scared Lord Cassius…I don't know…I can't imagine what will happen to me now…in a place where my imagination means nothing…at least…at least I finally found some people to play with me…"_

Then Mir's body disintegrated into dust, flying off into the wind with a small sparkle.

Ningyo blinked and looked around, his eyes wide. He was now back in the sanitarium, the dusty shelves and furniture from their original visit present instead of the red and black tiles from earlier. They were all present there, including the injured.

Baldemar stood up, rolling his shoulders as he did so. "Damn it, that was tough. Who took him out?"

"I did," answered the trickster blankly, wiping the ash from his hands as best he could.

Wolfenstein nodded, turning back into his original form except without his shirt. He cracked his jaw, glancing around curiously.

"Bartholomew is injured, I will take him back to our ship for medical care," he said walking over to the prone pirate. He looked up at Taika, who was still tending to his wounds. "You should do so as well. He will be safe."

The huntress nodded, staggering to stand from the pain in her chest. Then Aurai came over and helped her onto her feet, throwing an arm around her shoulder to stabilize her.

"Granny got hurt!" she said concerned, her eyes wide with worry. "Can I help?"

"Just carry me back you little rascal," taunted Taika. "I still don't like being called Granny."

"But you're the most mature girl in the Vault Hunter Core! You're the wisest too!"

The huntress paused, then grinned at her. "You know what, you redeemed yourself. Keep calling me it."

Aurai beamed, pleased she could keep her pet name. "Yay! Let's go home and have lots of snacks!"

Wolfenstein looked around and noticed that on the floor nearby were dozens of guns. A quick look told him that each one was one that they had used inside the toy box from earlier, some of them really creative. He grinned, pleased by the loot before him.

"Well, this mission was a success," he commented scooping up the goods with his SDU. "I better make sure to snag some of the best gear for myself of course."


	25. Chapter 25: DIscord

Grave Lord Cassius calmly moved a strand of hair from his face, his expression blank. His hair was a deep red color that went all the way down past his shoulders, the ends of which were cut straight across. On his head was a small circlet made of bone, like he had ripped it out of a skeleton. His skin was as pale as a snowbank, his eyes a pink color similar to lilies. He wore a simple black robe over his body with golden edges on the sleeves and tails, going down past his ankles as well.

"Hmm…so there goes Mir…" he muttered blankly, as if he was talking about spilling a beverage instead of the death of a subordinate.

_**Grave Lord Cassius: Cut Away To The Bone**_

"Ah, who cares?" snapped a voice to the side, one wielded by a broad man in the corner of the room. The man was clearly a warrior, his shoulders twice as broad as Cassius's, his entire upper torso bare save for two straps. The straps were originally connected to a large barrel of weapons, which were now lying on the floor to let the man lean on the wall. His grey hair was spiky and his skin was a beaten tan color, as if he lay in the sun for hours at a time. "Honestly, Mir was a punk anyway. We didn't need him."

_**Bastien De La Fontaine: Collect ALL the Things!**_

"There is no reason to be so casual about his death," muttered another man, one who was absolutely immense even compared to Bastien. He had armor similar to a samurai, but it was composed of asphalt instead of metal. He stood close to the ceiling of the room, his head tucked low under a huge scrap metal hat. "He gave his life fighting for us. We should honor that."

_**Peter Gorman: Urban Samurai**_

"Oh, but his death was so beautiful," commented a third man, casually twirling a chunk of his hair. The man was shorter than Cassius and held a significant aura of finesse, his entire body covered in elegant armor. His hair was a light purple color, similar to lavender, and he had enough of it to go close to his waist even in the front. His armor exposed his well-developed pectoral muscles and legs, the latter of which were greatly sexualized in his uniform. "In terms of dying, his was definitely high on my list. Of course, it could've been better, but you can only expect so much out of an ignorant one such as him."

_**Vincent Lebeau: Life is but a play…**_

"Hey Vincent, why don't you go be a gayass prissy boy somewhere else?" snapped a female to the side, the only female in the room. She was wearing a long fur jacket over her body with the flaps open, revealing her bare stomach and chest with only a few belts keeping it from being indecent. Her brown hair was tucked into a ponytail that went inside the jacket, her green eyes as piercing as sniper bullets. She pulled out the cigar she was smoking, gritting her teeth in the process. "Man, what the fuck, that leaves only 6 of us left, goddamn it. Last time I checked, less isn't more when it comes to fighting. So why are we sitting here and doing a fuckton of nothing?!"

_**Tamara Kuznetsov: One Real Alpha Bitch**_

"Oh come now Tamara, calm down a bit," pleaded a man to the side, his voice loose and relaxed. He was wearing a pinstripe tuxedo vaguely similar to a Ritalian mobster, a large fedora on his head as well. His hair was trimmed and black as pitch, his skin a deep brown color that resembled dirt. He was lying back on the wall in a casual stance, not at all stressed. "Seriously Tamara, it's all cool. We got this figured out."

_**Adamo Caro: Float like a Butterfly, Sting like a Bee**_

"Oh really? Last time I checked, your dumb ass was busy smoking blunts in your limo and sleeping in a goddamn leopard skin bed like you're some kind of fucking pimp. You haven't done shit."

Cassius held up a hand, interrupt her conversation. "Tamara, do not worry. This was all planned in advance. I have stayed my hand for so long due to the uncertainties that lay before us. While Mir and Mortem were effective combatants, they were highly unstable compared to the rest of you. Their loyalty and usefulness was uncertain. Therefore, they were sacrificial lambs for our altar."

"Their contributions were necessary," murmured Peter, though his voice held undertones of disdain towards his leader's comments.

The Grave Lord nodded. "Yes. Now we can truly begin the plan. Bastien, Peter, I am relying on you for your contribution. Stick together. It is not a good idea for us to lose either of you, so being part of a team means the chances of your demise are lower."

Bastien grinned, almost arrogantly in nature. "Heh, there's no need for that. I'm far stronger than anyone on this planet. Just look at all the weapons I've collected so far." He tapped the barrel beside him with his foot, the huge stack of weapons barely moving at all from his hit.

"It is still a smart idea," commented Peter. "Together, we can stop anyone who comes after us."

"Yeah, that's true. You're a pretty tough guy Pete. Eh, I'll deal with it. Let's hope the guys we fight having cool weapons to use."

Cassius smirked, glancing at the rest of his company. "Now, I need the rest of you here alongside me. I fear that Arlon will try to stage something against our capital, and even I am not arrogant enough to wish to challenge him on any battlefield by myself."

"You can count on my sire," assured Tamara bowing lowly.

"I will gladly assist you anyway I can sire," stated Vincent giving a graceful bow, his arm tucked into his stomach with his other high in the air.

"A pleasure to help," said Adamo simply, bowing his head with an arm across his shoulder.

The Grave Lord nodded. "Good. Now, I shall retire to my chambers. I have many things to think about."

**[Richard McGuinness] "Wait, when did Cassius become a Grave Lord? I thought he was just a simple Grave Knight before."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "He was just a Grave Knight. But he's gotten powerful enough to be classified as a Grave Lord. Plus, he has minions below him, of Grave Knight power, meaning he himself must be at the Grave Lord level. He is Arlon's enemy for a reason."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yeah, true dat. Hey, that guy with the Mob look, did you see something odd about him?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Huh…I thought only I saw it. Yeah, I did. I couldn't look him in the eyes at all. It was as if, you know, something was deflecting me or whatever. They looked like they absorbed all light around them, like black holes."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Creepy shit."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "True dat man."**

* * *

Bastien and Peter walked out of the meeting room quietly, both of them moving casually together through the halls. The castle they were inside was in the center of their capital, with both being Cassius's base of operations and the start of his new empire. They even had citizens there, many of them former citizens of Arlon who were persuaded by Cassius's wise words and solace.

"Heh, you were awfully talkative today Pete," stated the swordsman planting his hands behind his head, as if he was reclining backwards. "Normally you and Adamo don't say shit, but today you both spoke a lot. Any reason?"

"We lost two of our comrades," replied the giant quietly, his asphalt helmet low over his face. "That is a good enough reason for me to be talkative. The others do not seem to care that we lost them, but I will remember what they did for us. They at least deserve that."

Bastien grunted. "Heh, go right on ahead. War tends to have a lot of casualties. Not much we can do about it, but don't look at me. After all…"

He tapped the barrel strapped to his back. "I collect the weapons of my defeated foes. Basically, I'm remembering them by using their weapons. In essence, our ideologies are similar."

"Perhaps," murmured Peter. "Either way, we must work together to fulfill Cassius's orders."

"Aye."

They were interrupted by two figures approaching them, both of them relatively odd looking. The first one was a female far shorter than either of the Grave Knights, though compared to normal people she would be fairly average. On her hands were two pairs of black fingerless gloves with glowing blue pentagrams along the backs. Strapped to her waist was a large leather book, which appeared to be locked with a small strap along the side. Her skin was a light pale color with huge burn scars running down the left side of her face and neck, as if someone had poured boiling water on her. Despite this, she was still fairly pretty, her hair in a loose ponytail down her back and her eyes a sparkling green.

The other man didn't even look that human, being nearly as tall as Peter but with decidedly less humanoid aspects. His skin was leathery and stretched, several areas pressing hard against the bones under them, especially around the neck and arms. His arms were so long they extended past his knees, his fingers morphed into curved claws that were stained from blood. His hair was long since gone, replaced with large black spikes similar to a dinosaur, running from the top of his head all the way down to his buttocks. His mouth had been sewed shut except for a section in the front, a good chunk of it running all the way up to his ears but remaining restrained by metal stitches. His eyes were orange and seemed to breathe hunger, as if he wanted to swallow everything he saw up in his maw.

"Master," stated the woman crossing her arm over her shoulder, bowing her head to Bastien as well. "Good to finally see you again. Did the meeting go over well?"

_**Swarna Deshpande: Quick-draw**_

"Yeah, how was it?" inquired the monster absently, licking his parched lips as he talked. "Was there food?"

_**Gueule: Consume Death**_

Bastien grunted, shrugging as he walked. "Not bad. Kinda boring. We're going to be working with Pete here. Show him the same respect to me and shit."

Swarna blushed slightly and hit behind Bastien, glancing out from his large body shyly. "Uh…hi Mr. Gorman. It's…it's a pleasure."

"Hmm," murmured Peter quietly, not really wanting to talk to anyone he didn't have to. It wasn't a personal thing, he just didn't want to talk to her.

Gueule grinned and threw his long arm around the man, nearly being as tall as he was. "Sup dude? Know any good places to eat? I haven't had a bite of nothing in an hour, and I think I'm about to freaking die."

The giant slapped his arm off his body, not even breaking the rhythm of his steps in the process. "Do not touch me."

He walked off silently, leaving the rest of them behind without another word.

Bastien glared at his subordinate, his eyebrows furrowed. "Damn it don't you know Pete is the kind of guy who hates touchy-feely? He's one of those loner types."

Gueule shrugged, then grinned over at his fellow female Grave Knight. "Heh, I touched him. Bet you're jealous Swa."

Swarna blushed crimson, tightening her fists and stomping her feet into the ground. "S-s-shut up! He didn't ask you to touch him, so it doesn't count!"

"Aw, you really like Mr. Gorman don't ya? Admit it."

"I like him due to his aesthetically pleasing exterior," stated the female calmly, brushing a strand of hair off her face as she did so, similar to Vincent from before. "I find him to be a subject I would draw for hours at a time just so I could observe more of his beauty."

The monster nodded slowly. "Mmm-hmm, yeah, sure. You want his dick don't you?"

"Will you shut the hell up you goddamn perverted freak!?"

Bastien chuckled, leaning into her face as he did so. "Hey Swarna, what about me? I'm a handsome guy right?"

Swarna looked at him, her face brightening even further as she studied his bare chest. She began to speak in gibberish, moving her hands rapidly to compensate. "Uh…of course you are a very pleasing man to look at Master, not that I look at you, or…well I do, but…it's not like that! I just find you to be…"

"Aesthetically pleasing?" offered Gueule with a snicker. "Biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard out of your mouth. You're just a closet pervert Swa."

"Stop calling me that!"

"Pervert or Swa?"

"Both you ugly glutton!"

The monster smirked, placing a hand on his heart in faux-pain. "Ow, that hurt. Warn me when you're about to insult me, I nearly burst an artery."

"Maybe you'll finally die then," snapped the female. "It'd be a good thing, since we lost so much damn money because of your eating habits."

"Don't be unfair! But seriously, I really need something to eat right now!"

Bastien chuckled. "We'll get some food once we get home. I gotta talk with Pete. You two…uh…I don't know, talk or whatever."

He ran ahead to catch up with his partner, leaving the two Grave Servants alone. They glanced at each other, the monster grinning with his standard smile.

"Hey I got some Playgirls if you want them Swa," stated Gueule.

"Oh, you gone through them a couple times?" snapped Swarna annoyed.

He paused, a grimace crossing his face. "Huh, that was a nice comeback."

"Damn right it was."


	26. Chapter 26: Titan Training Part 1

Edward the Kidd planted his hands against his hips dramatically, grinning widely. "So maggot, what do you think?"

Dion looked around the room, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. It looked like a humongous gymnasium, the entire structure composed of hardened plastic. It was completely devoid of anything, except for themselves and two spectators.

The first spectator was Edward's first mate, a quiet man draped in a huge cloak. A large hood was thrown over his face, exposing only his mouth that seemed to be in a permanent frown. Even still, he was extremely tall and lean, looking similar to Zero in build.

The second spectator was Aurai, who was seated at one of the far walls holding a large soft drink and some popcorn. She was munching loudly on it, her grin wide. She had come here to watch him do his Titan training, as she had heard it would be fun to watch. Even if it wasn't, she was willing to sit here and observe him out of devotion.

"Uh…it's nice I guess," muttered the Plasma Titan. "Why is everything plastic though?"

"Reasons," snapped Edward quickly. "Now, I am your personal trainer on Titan combat, as I am the strongest Titan alive, barring none. So if I train you right you will be at least second best. Well, Rocko's really damn good, so third best. Sound good?"

"Uh…sure?"

"Awesome. Now, time for your first lesson."

The older Titan then grabbed him and flung him into a wall, doing the task so easily it was like breathing to him.

Dion slammed into the plastic and bounced, grunting as he landed on the floor. He gritted his teeth and stood back up, only for a boot to slam into his chest and pin him to the wall. Looking up, he saw a huge metal blade aimed right at his face, the point barely a centimeter from his eye.

Edward glared at him coldly, his index finger on his right hand having morphed into a needle point that appeared to be made of steel. He had a vague expression similar to boredom, his eyes like chunks of iron.

"So, what did you learn?" inquired the Metal Titan calmly.

The Plasma Titan raised an eyebrow. "Heh? The fuck was I supposed to learn from that?!"

Edward grunted, rolling his eyes. "Okay dipshit, I'll explain it to you. But first, a few questions. Number one: did you know my powers?"

"No."

"Did you have a chance to get away and gain some distance?"

"Yes."

"And what kind of Titan are you and what is your main ability?"

"I'm the Plasma Titan. I fire beams of energy from my hands."

The Metal Titan nodded. "Okay. So with _all_ that factored in, you didn't decide to run away and maybe figure a plan or analyze my powers in any way?"

"Why would I do that?"

Edward face-palmed, then smacked his pupil hard in the face.

"Hey!" roared Dion angrily. "Dammit stop doing that!"

"I'll do it every time you're being a dumbass," retorted the Metal Titan. He grabbed him by the lapels, glaring right into his eyes as well. "Listen to me fuckhead, you have a ranged power. The Flora, Blood and Plasma Titans all have ranged abilities. Only Ice, Metal and Disease have melee powers. While you regenerate faster than a lizard on heroin, you still aren't meant to get up close and punch the shit out of things. Remember a guy named Jackal Cash? He shat on you because you tried to get close and beat his head in, and he just abused his abilities to make you half the man you used to be, literally. You can't rush into your fights without a little strategy."

"Okay, I get it, I'm an idiot!" yelled the Plasma Titan. "So what do I do?"

"First of all, I'm going to teach you the best skill a ranged combatant can learn. And that is to run like hell."

Dion raised an eyebrow. "Really? You're going to teach me how to run in those platform shoes?"

Edward laughed, tossing him back into the center of the room with a playful shove. "Naw."

He threw off his shawl from his shoulders and made a huge array of blades appear in his back, running along his arms and chest as well, similar to a human porcupine.

"I'm going to chase you and try to kill you, and you're going to run and not die," said the Metal Titan cheerily, settling into a combat stance easily.

"Wait, what the fuck kinda plan is that?! I could literally die here you know! This is absolutely insane, I…!"

"Here I come!" roared Edward sprinting at him wildly, spinning on his heel and leaping into the air.

"Fuck!" roared Dion dodging to the side and evading the blades, running away as fast as his newly healed legs could carry him across the gym.

"Relax, even if I do kill you, you do respawn!" stated the Metal Titan running after him. "But still try your hardest to dodge me! I hate being bored!"

Aurai was giggling and shoveling popcorn into her mouth rapidly, amused beyond belief. "You can do it Dion! Show that man that you _can_ run away and not die!"

"The fact you find this entertaining is alarming," murmured the first mate of Edward, glancing at her blankly.

"Well I might as well encourage my HBCM the best way I can!"

"HBCM? Is that an acronym?"

"Yes! It means Honey Bunches of Cuddle Muffins, and that's his name besides Dion!"

The first mate made a noise that might've been a chuckle, before resuming his stoic facial expression. "Of course it is."

* * *

Lilith glanced up from her report in hand, an eyebrow raised in surprise. "Well, you did a lot better than most of expected. We appreciate the help from the Syndicate, all of you."

Simo bowed slightly, his crimson coat shuffling as he did so. As the highest ranked member in the room for the Syndicate, he was supposed to speak first. "No thanks are necessary. We already have our payment. It was a pleasure working with you all."

"It's only a shame you can't join us," murmured Baskerville. "We could use some badasses like yourselves on our crew."

"I have an obligation to my own crew," explained Bartholomew regretfully. "But perhaps I shall march in battle as a Vault Hunter one day. But it won't be today."

Simo nodded. "I am still trying to accomplish something on this planet. But if you ever need the Syndicate's help, just call. We are grateful to help, for a price of course."

Ningyo chuckled, looking at Lilith with a wide grin. "Well these two may be unable, but I'm free. I will gladly fight as a Vault Hunter. After seeing what you all can do in a fight, I know this organization is legitimate. Also, you have some very cute members I like very much."

The Siren smirked. "Tread carefully. Some of those 'members' have partners or sexual tension out the yin-yang. Either way, I am grateful to have you aboard. Welcome to the Vault Hunters."

They shook hands, the trickster's entire hand being cold metal and nearly freezing her skin off in the process.

"Now, let's discuss what we should do next," murmured Lilith sitting in her captain's seat lowly. "We need to wait for Arlon to…"

Suddenly a huge explosion noise emitted around them, as if they had been swallowed in a supernova. They all sat up, then noticed a large white aura was in front of them, like a miniature cloud in the room. It revealed the entire map of Sheol, before congregating on one small dot on it, towards the south of Arlon's castle. It appeared to be a huge city of some kind, though it looked mysteriously deserted in fashion. A voice spoke through the cloud, a voice very similar to Arlon.

"Thy next foe is, the aspect of Sacrifice," spoke the voice ominously, its bass tones shaking the entire room with its might, "a silent warrior striking from the shadows. He will not hesitate to eliminate those in his way."

Then the cloud shuddered for a moment, the view remaining over the city. Then he spoke again, which was something he had never done before.

"Thy next foe is, the aspect of Greed," spoke the voice again, seemingly adding onto the list of targets, "a collector of weapons waiting for opponents. Be careful, lest you be added to his collection."

Then the cloud and voice disappeared, leaving them alone in the room with a deathly chill that seemed to sink into their very bones.

"Two Grave Knights?" questioned Baskerville. "The fuck's going on?"

Wolfenstein scoffed slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Apparently these two are grouped together, most likely to make it harder for us to kill them. This is going to be difficult."

Simo nodded. "Unfortunately, we Syndicate members must be going right now. There is important business we must attend to elsewhere."

"Of course," replied Lilith calmly. "I wish you all luck."

"To you as well," said Bartholomew.

The two Syndicate members walked out of the room, leaving the Vault Hunters by themselves to discuss matters.

Wolfenstein glanced at Ningyo, his face calm. "Because of you, Mir was successfully defeated. I appreciate your help in that matter. However, we can only have four Vault Hunters on one team during our initial reconnaissance of any opponents for fear of detection."

The trickster nodded understandably. "Of course. To be honest, I'm pretty exhausted. I need to make sure my gadgets are still working and such. But if you require my help, I will give my life to make sure a handsome man such as yourself is safe."

Baskerville smirked, bemused by their conversation. "Gaaaaaay."

The elder wereskag smacked him, nearly taking his head off in the process. "Shut up Pup."

**[Richard McGuinness] "Wait, is that the end of the chapter? What about Taika and Baldemar?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Do we even need to say where they are? Taika is with Saprus, her one true love, and Baldemar is with Gaige, probably banging."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yeah, but still…"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well you try to write the filler between the action scenes!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "You don't write it either!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Fair point sir!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Thank you for calling me sir!"**


	27. Chapter 27: Hero Killer

"_Mr. James, this city is in a truly deplorable state."_

"_I agree Mr. Simon."_

_Archbishop Simon the Zealot and Guardian James the Less stood in the center of a large crowd of people, thick heavy cloths over their bodies to hide their weapons and real attire. The city they were in was known as Les Invalides, which apparently contained the next two Grave Knights on Grave Lord Arlon's list. They had been sent here by Teresa Pangolin to perform reconnaissance, the information retrieved being liable for selling to anyone who came by the chapel. It was a diabolic scheme, but an effective one to say the least. _

"_The people here appear rather shady," muttered James, his eyes scanning through the crowd quickly. "They all duck their heads as I look at them, and something is off about their skin."_

"_No doubt they have affiliations with the Grave Knights as some kind of undead," suggested Simon. "It is possible that they are bound to them by contract or something similar, though it is unlikely we will ever find out."_

_They paused when they saw a ripple in the crowd, one approaching them. Instantly all the people around the ripple dispersed, their eyes registering fear. The dispersal revealed a large creature in the center of the crowd, his body seemingly stretched too far in every direction by some unknown force. _

"_Heh, found you," spat Gueule with a huge sneer. "You two stand out like sore thumbs in a crowd of undead. Name's Gueule, I'm a Grave Servant for Lord Bastien."_

_Simon grunted, throwing off his hood to reveal his baby face. "We have no quarrel, we are here on business for the Church of Mercy. For your safety, we recommend you do not interfere."_

_The Grave Servant smirked. "Eh? My safety? Boy you're a long way from Kansas if you're thinking like that. Around here, people like me are the ones making threats."_

"_We do not wish to start a fight," assured James quietly. "Mr. Simon, please, let us just go. There is no need for us to spill blood."_

_Gueule flicked his claws. "Yeah Simon, no need to spill blood. Go on back to your little chapel. But first, I got something to show you."_

_He gestured to some people behind him, who brought forth two large objects forward on carts. The objects were covered in bloodstained clothes, some parts of it soaked all the way through. They looked to be taller than a human, though their exact shape made it hard to tell exactly what they were._

_The Grave Servant grinned, then grabbed the cloths and threw them off the objects. _

_On both of the carts were two crucified bodies, each one nailed to a huge wooden cross with large spikes on the hands and feet. They were long since dead, their heads hung low and their eyes closed. _

_Simon and James narrowed their eyes, their faces registering annoyance. This wasn't just cruel, this was a direct insult to their religion as well. Then they both paused, recognizing the men._

"_Those are Tikari and Viitta…" muttered the young boy._

"_The ones from the Carnival…" murmured the old man. He snarled, his face registering rage. "How dare you?! What did they do to you?!"_

**[Richard McGuinness] "Wait…oh shit dude…"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "You gonna be okay man?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yeah…just…God…they didn't deserve that. No one does."**

_Gueule burst into laughter, his sharp fangs sparking against each other as he did so. "What did they do?! Nothing! They were old Grave Knights, and they died easily at my hands! I did it to prove a point! That we Grave Knights and Servants under Grave Lord Cassius aren't a bunch of pussies! I know for a fact that these guys won't ever forget that!"_

_He grabbed at Tikari's face, a huge chunk of his right cheek completely gone. "Isn't that right? Besides, why do you care? You didn't know these men as allies; in fact, I'm pretty damn certain they were your enemies once."_

_Simon threw off his coat, drawing his bayonets in one motion. "Their relationship with us was irrelevant! We as holy disciples of God will not allow such cruelty and malice to stand before us unpunished!"_

_James did the same, pulling out his long spikes and charging the ends of them with red aura. "You have been condemned for your sins against mankind and God, and we as holy instruments shall put you into a grave for what you have done. In the name of the prophets before us…"_

_They both ran forward, their eyes full of rage. "REPENT MOTHERFUCKER!"_

_They stabbed Gueule with their weapons up-close, piercing his heart and both lungs in the same attack. _

_The Grave Knight slumped forward, his head falling to where his chin touched his chest. _

_James nodded firmly. "It is done."_

"_Not quite," spoke the Grave Servant glared up at him. "That hurt you know."_

_They both leaped away, astonished beyond belief. They stared at the wounds, the edges of them sealing up as if they had never appeared._

"_You two really are hypersensitive you know?" asked Gueule casually, wiping the blood from the front of his shirt. "All I did was crucify two guys, no big deal. Well, you done did it I guess. I haven't had a meal in a while, and you two should do perfectly."_

_He licked his lips, his eyes flashing with excitement. Then he leaped forward with his claws out, moving far farther than they had anticipated. _

_Simon dodged him and smashed at him with a bayonet, his aura cutting deep into the Grave Servant's arm and nearly splitting it completely. Just like last time, the wound sealed up in no time, causing him to grunt in anger. _

_Gueule grabbed him with a claw and chomped on his right arm, causing him to scream in pain. The teeth felt as if they were red hot, burrowing into his flesh agonizingly. Then he felt his arm sucked down the creature's gullet, his eyes widening in horror. He concentrated hard, collecting as much of his aura as he could into his arm to cause it to detonate. _

_The Grave Knight bit down and tore his arm clean off, though the limb exploded in his stomach as soon as he did so. He ballooned up slightly before swallowing, smoke trialing from his mouth. He chuckled, licking his lips as well. "God, you taste spicy. Course that might have something to do with the fact you literally exploded down my gullet. Oh well, I want more of it either way."_

_James appeared behind him and threw an array of spikes at him, twenty of them stabbing the monster in the back. Then they exploded in a fiery blast, singing the clothing off the monster's back as well as taking a solid layer of skin off, exposing all the muscles groups there._

_Gueule grunted in anger and turned, his eyes registering annoyance. "Oooooow! God, I do feel that you know!?"_

_He grabbed the old man and lifted him up, his grip tight around his neck. He stared at him in the eyes, then impaled him with his other hand._

"_Mr. James!" yelled Simon astonished. _

_James gasped as blood poured from the wound. He looked down, noticing that no gore was coming out despite the serrated edges on the monster's claw and arm. _

"_Haven't figured it out?" inquired Gueule mockingly. "My power is to eat, to consume anything I come across. I eat injuries, limbs, explosions, even internal organs. It is absolute. You cannot kill a man like me."_

_The old man grunted, pulling out a spike as he did so. "Mr. Simon, please run! I shall hold him off as long as I can!"_

_Simon nodded and sprinted off, knowing he had to get this information back to Teresa as urgently as possible. While he hated doing so, he knew it was futile to continue fighting a losing battle that held no benefits, even the benefit of honor. _

_Gueule smirked, glancing at the fleeing Archbishop. "Tut-tut, I can't let that happen."_

_Simon was running when he felt a pressure on his right foot a millisecond before he felt his leg give under him, causing him to fall to the floor. He looked down in terror as a huge mouth was now in the street below him, its gaping maw having already consumed his foot. He then felt the mouth open its teeth again and swallow him whole, casting him into darkness._

"_Did you think I couldn't consume things away from me?" asked Gueule tauntingly, licking his lips like he was savoring a treat. "God he tastes great. Like a fine wine. I love the blood of the youth."_

_James immediately reached into his jacket, pulling out what looked like a pistol. Though the barrel was far larger and bulkier than most, the chamber having a single glowing object inside of it. _

_The Grave Servant paused, his eyes wide in shock. "That thing is…!"_

_The old man aimed straight up and fired, the object inside the pistol flying into the air rapidly. It grew small wings and turned, beginning to fly back towards the chapel away from the city. It was a camera and microphone in a cartridge, basically acting as a last-resort catalogue of what happened to the person firing it. _

_Gueule frowned, his eyes narrowing. "Damn it. You'll pay for that."_

_James closed his eyes, his face relaxing a moment before his inevitable death. "Teresa…forgive me…goodbye…"_

* * *

The Vault Hunters sat astonished as Teresa analyzed the reconnaissance report from her now-deceased bodyguards, their faces mixes of horror and shock. She on the other hand was far more composed, her eyes dull except for a small spark of some unknown emotion.

"It would appear these Grave Servants are not one to be trifled with," she murmured aloud, biting her index finger in thought. "It was foolish of me to send them both on reconnaissance when the New-U Stations have not been set up nearby."

"This Gueule is apparently very strong," agreed Wolfenstein blankly. "He managed to defeat Tikari and Viitta as well. I think it is ill-advised to fight him in direct combat."

Teresa nodded. "Well…I have an idea. My subordinates did manage to get a valuable piece of information before they went to our Father above. With this information, we can lure Gueule into a trap. A trap he will not escape."

"I thought the Church was a peaceful organization," pondered Taika slightly nervous at the implications the Grand Archbishop was speaking.

Teresa glanced at her, offering a motherly smile. Even still, her eyes were absolutely cold and malicious, the spark from before turning into a wildfire of hatred. "My dear, the Church of Mercy offers guidance to the flock and a staff to the wolves. That is the nature of our work. I do not tolerate heathens who think they are higher than we are, especially ones who kill my men and insult my work. This Gueule will be baited like the wolf he is, and there is no sparing a heathen wolf like him."

Baldemar raised an eyebrow in astonishment. "Jesus, I see how a guy like Alan fit right into this Church so easily."

* * *

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well now we finally got some Q&A to answer, after such a long time."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Awesome. Smack it down."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well it's from JcD325, so there's a couple, and they're good ones. Okay, first one: 'Are'nt hospitals rendered useless due to the little red vial that Zed sells for two hundred dollars? And if that does'nt work, why can't they just off themselves and get respawned? They've already died once, it's not as if they could still reproduce by natural means?'"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Well your point is valid man, and normally those vials of healing-aid would regenerate damn near anything. Unfortunately, Jackal Cash makes wounds that don't regenerate normally, which is why Dion didn't get back up during his fight. And Dion can't just respawn because he was disconnected from a New-U Station at the time of the fight. Reconnecting him when he was injured would cause him to return just as injured, as it returns you to the exact same state you entered in as."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, also, they can reproduce. Just more fuel for the shipping fires. I see you are a Mortem X Wolfenstein and Wolfenstein X Elena fan."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Judging by the fan reactions, we just need to make a foursome with Mortem, Elena Tear, Paige and Wolfenstein. Uh…now that I think about it, that's kinda hot. Except for Mortem being there."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Why?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "She's fucking 14!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Not in the head!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "She is in the tits!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "I don't judge a woman by her breasts! That's a useless objectification exercise done throughout the centuries! Women should be judged by their ass, not their breasts!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "I like how you started as an equalist and ended as a sexist. Congrats."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Okay, okay, time for the next question, same source: 'I wonder, why can't they simply overrun the Grave Knights, who I shall henceforth reffer to as dead-men walking. They have so much troops at their disposal! Or have the Raiders gone soft?'"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Well it's simple actually. First of all, sending too many people will get Cassius to attack them first due to standing out. Right now, they're just one of the countless people trying to kill him. Sending any more troops would cause them to get noticed, and that is NOT what you want to happen when you got a guy as strong as Cassius. Also, Cassius has a ton of men under him as well. Don't worry, we'll have a huge war scene later on, but no spoilers!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "True dat. Also, your comments about the tags were legit, so we changed them. Because we're getting really far into the story, we're losing focus on the base characters of the story, though we hope you guys don't mind. I mean, if we really did write Borderlands 3, we wouldn't be making the guys from Borderlands 2 the main focus of attention throughout the whole story. It's counterproductive."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Yeah. Keep sending us questions dudes, since we actually like answering them. Later fuckers."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Tatty bye!"**


	28. Chapter 28: Crawl

Grand Archbishop Teresa Pangolin sipped her cup of tea casually, seated at a small table near a fountain inside the chapel courtyard. Near her was a patch of grass reserved as a graveyard, with four new tombstones placed there in memorial to the dead. Two of them were for Simon and James, as they were her closest disciples and deserved a place to be remembered. The other two were for Tikari and Viitta, who may have not been a member of their Church but still deserved a resting place on this mortal plane.

"Wolfenstein, is the trap ready?" inquired the woman quietly into a com-unit placed in her collar.

"Yes," answered the wereskag, his breathing harsh against the microphone from so far away. "We have sighted Gueule. We will bring him towards you as fast as we can."

"Of course, take your time," spoke Teresa calmly. "I do not like rushing things. Do not injure yourselves in the process."

"Of course. Over and out."

The woman glanced at her tea cup, swirling the concoction inside it anxiously. "Hmm…so it begins."

* * *

"Heh, have fun peeking at Lord Bastien this morn?"

"I did no such thing you overgrown monkey!"

"Really? Your pants look a little wet."

"H-h-how dare you accuse me of such a thing!?"

Gueule burst into laughter, his Glasgow smile ripping itself open as he did so. "Ah relax! It's just a joke!"

Swarna Deshpande stomped her feet in aggravation, her face in a furious blush. They had been walking around the city for the last hour and he had annoyed her to the point of killing him five times. A new record actually.

"You are so…so…!"

"Annoying? Perverted? Sexy?" suggested Gueule grinning widely.

"The first two only!" roared the female Grave Servant.

"Aw, denial. I get that a lot from the ladies."

"I bet you do."

"Yeah…hey wait a minute!"

Swarna smirked. "Gotcha good you freak."

Gueule snarled, shoving his hands into the stretched pockets of his pants. "Eat a dick why don't ya? Better yet, eat Bastien or Pete's dick. You clearly want it."

"I do _not_!"

The monster paused, sniffing the air intensely.

The female stopped as well, her face turning serious. "What is it? Human?"

"Naw…something else…"

Gueule turned down a side alley, grinning widely. There was a woman facing away from him, strutting her hips widely as if to provoke him. Her hair was black and long, going to mid-back on her in a straight filed line. Her skin was a delicate white shade, similar to porcelain, and shone in the sunlight.

"Booty," he whispered licking his lips.

Swarna smacked herself in the face. "Goddamn it I knew this was going to be stupid."

She kept walking, clearly annoyed. "Have fun reliving your perverted fantasies. I'll stay on patrol."

"Yeah, sure whatever, patrol. Sneak a few pics of Pete and Bastien for me, would ya kindly?"

The female flipped him the bird and kept walking, leaving him alone at the entrance to the alleyway.

Gueule chuckled and glanced back at the woman down the alley, his eyes full of lust. He eyed her bottom, which was currently swaying every time she took a step.

"Swiggity swooty I'm coming for that booty," he snarled walking forward, licking his lips in anticipation.

"Hey there pretty lady! Come here often?" asked Gueule casually, hiding his claws as best he could tucked into his armpits.

The woman turned the corner, causing him to quickly follow.

"Hey baby, don't ignore me! Baby come back, you can blame it all on me!"

He followed closely behind her, the woman continuing to ignore him. His pleas got a bit more desperate, as he kept eyeing her bottom in lust.

"Come on baby, I'm a gentleman! Tell ya what, I'll even take you out for a drink, no, a movie! That sound cool? Come on, I'm buying baby!"

The woman stopped, causing him to stop too. Then the woman turned around, revealing her true face. Or should I say, his true face.

"Hey handsome," stated Ningyo Torikku with a huge grin. "A movie or a drink? How about both?"

Gueule slithered back, his eyes wide in disgust. "Shit man I don't roll that man! I must've mistaken ya for…!"

He backed up and found he was now pressed up against something, something that felt big and bulky. Turning his head, he saw a green-jacketed man with a large toothy grin staring at him.

"Pleased to eat you," stated Wolfenstein calmly, morphing his right arm into a claw as big as a dumpster.

Ningyo flicked his wrist and an array of wires dragged around the Grave Servant's body. Throwing his arm to the side, Gueule was thrown bodily through the building in front of them and slammed into the alleyway on the other side.

"Ow! Goddamn it…" muttered Gueule getting to his knees in pain. "Those assholes ambushed me like a bunch of cowards…"

He looked up and saw a huge machine gun aimed at him from down the alley, a tactical flashlight illuminating his body.

Baldemar smiled and pulled the trigger on the gun, releasing a huge storm of bullets down the alley. The Grave Servant leaped into safety into another alley, panting from exhaustion.

"Shit…shit…shit…" muttered Gueule. "That guy's here and those two guys are behind me…I gotta get around and ambush them…"

He heard a huge rustling noise from his left and turned, his eyes widening in astonishment. A large purple tornado was flying towards him down the alley, tearing up chunks of the building and garbage as it moved.

"Fuck me!" he yelled a minute before it hit him, throwing him across the alley and into a heap inside a dumpster.

* * *

Teresa sipped her tea, watching her watch with a blank stare. The plan had been acted out five minutes ago, meaning their target was on the move towards the location. She was anxious of course, but she kept herself composed all the same.

"And three…two…one…" she whispered glancing up. "Here he comes."

Gueule suddenly appeared in the courtyard, his body full of bullet holes and chunks of debris. He was panting exhausted, leaning on a tombstone dependently to support himself. They had chased him all the way to the city outskirts, to unknown ghettos and streets he had never visited before or ever cared to visit for that matter.

"Mother…fuckers…" spat the Grave Servant. "They really…know how to chase a guy…"

He paused, looking around rapidly. Then he saw Teresa and grinned, noticing how she had no weapons.

"Heh, this courtyard…that cross…you must be the lady who owns this chapel," stated Gueule walking towards her calmly. "If that's the case…you must know the men who I saw the other day."

Teresa nodded blankly, sipping her tea as she did so.

The Grave Servant grinned, standing straight up to stare down at her even from so far away. "Would you like for me to tell you a story? That old man I fought, the one called James I think, I kept him alive. I slowly ate off him for hours, taking a small chunk off him about the size of a gumball. Normal people would've died after a few chunks, but he stayed alive up until I began on his torso. He kept screaming a name, over and over again.

His grin exploded, all the stitches around his mouth opening to allow him to smile. "I think it was 'Teresa'. Yeah, that sounds right. He kept screaming it, like this, 'Teresa! Teresa!' It was pretty funny actually. Then he went, 'Ugh…' Like that."

Teresa glanced up from her tea, setting it down gently. "Indeed. Well there seems to be a small problem here then. You have killed my subordinates, and I cannot forgive you for this offense with your present attitude. So now you are going to crawl and apologize to me."

Gueule smirked, walking forward confidently. "You're funny lady…"

"I said CRAWL!"

A sniper shot rang out and instantly slammed through the Grave Servant's upper jawline, taking out his upper teeth and mouth as if it was made of paper. This also destroyed the Grave Servant Mark hidden on his gum line, which they only knew about because of the information from the deceased James and Simon.

Then a second shot fired and took out his knees, sending him to the ground on two shattered legs and in a pool of blood.

Teresa sipped her tea, her composure already back. "You really should've seen this coming Gueule. If you were able to think rationally you would've guessed the obvious truth…"

She glared at him intensely over the rim of the cup. "…this is where you're going to die."

Gueule laughed bitterly, his mouth already coming back into place, albeit a lot slower than he had previously regenerated. "You're funny lady…really…I can't die…I won't die here…because…I've killed so many people in my life, and I've eaten so many too…I've added onto my life…I won't die…You can't kill me…I'm immortal…"

Teresa nodded slowly, closing her eyes peacefully. "An interesting religion no doubt. However, our beliefs mean nothing right now."

She leaned forward, sighing intensely. "We're simply two people on this earth with an argument, nothing more, nothing less. Our Gods and our religions have nothing to do with this. We simply wish to kill one another. And unfortunately, your 'immortality' doesn't mean anything at the moment."

She sipped her tea cup again, watching his struggle and crawl towards her desperately. "Judging by the blood loss and the poison on those bullets, you have about five minutes before you collapse. I dedicate these last few moments of your pitiful life to Tikari, Viitta, Simon and James, may they all rest in peace. I will bury you of course, as it is right to do so. Though…I bet you won't understand the gesture."

Gueule finally sank to the floor, his breathing becoming faint. He grasped at the stones weakly, tears slowly coming out of his eyes, from the pain and the immediate prospect of death. He cried softly, his fear of death exposing itself deep inside.

"Don't cry you pitiful creature," snapped Teresa coldly, sipping her tea again. "Don't you know? Monsters can't cry."


	29. Chapter 29: Collection

The Vault Hunters walked through the city of undead anxiously, their hands at their weapons in case anyone nearby made a move. It was doubtful that the Grave Knights in charge knew of their presence, but it was still a good idea to be cautious here.

"Why does everyone seem…dead?" asked Aurai quietly, tugging her new jacket over her body to separate herself from the crows around her.

"They must be some sort of undead," murmured Wolfenstein sniffing the air. "They reek like corpses. They aren't Grave Servants or Knights, so I have no idea what they are. Either way, be careful. Don't talk too loud about anything."

They paused when they saw a figure in the crowd before them, a tall and imposing one carrying a huge machine gun. This figure they recognized though, one they did not want to see either.

"Him," murmured Taika snarling, grabbing her sniper rifle on her shoulder. "What is that fucker doing here?"

"Does it matter?" asked Baldemar gripping his assault rifle. "That asshole deserves to die."

The figure was walking through the crowds in an obvious panic, asking and begging people around him for some unknown task. His face was unwashed, his long hair clearly greasy and messy from lack of a shower. He apparently hadn't slept in days, his eyes having numerous bags under them.

"Please, someone, I need help!" exclaimed Masher pleadingly, trying to stop people for just a second to talk to them. "I'm looking for a man, about six foot, has two gauntlets on his arms! Have you seen him?! He was kidnapped from me and…!"

The giant stopped, staring through the crowds right at the Vault Hunters.

"You…" he murmured astonished.

He stormed through the groups of people as fast as he could, his breathing rate accelerating. He was not angry at them at all, his face only holding signs of desperation. He collapsed to his knees in front of them, staring at them in amazement.

"Vault Hunters, thank God," panted Masher bowing his head, his face covered in sweat. "Listen, my servant Carnifex was kidnapped and I need your help finding him. It's an emergency!"

They remained silent, saying absolutely nothing and staring at him with expressions of pure hate.

He paused, noticing the looks they were giving him. "Okay, okay, I get it. You all hate me for what I did to Aurai, I get it. But aren't you all some kind of big goddamn heroes? Can't you just overlook that stuff?"

He grabbed Baldemar's armor futilely, staring at him pleadingly. "Come on darkie! Don't be such an ass about this! I never did anything to you personally!"

"You harmed the family," stated the inventor calmly. "That is enough for us to never help you."

Masher let go of him, reaching Taika. "Okay, I get it. I fucked up a lot, I was a dickhead. Bitch, don't hold it against me. I'm like that, it was part of my job description. Come on, that shit was in the past!"

"Just because it was in the past doesn't mean we can let it go," snapped the huntress coldly. "Learn that next time you want a favor from someone you fucked with."

The giant went over to Wolfenstein, grasping his long coat desperately. "Okay, I really didn't mean what I did to her! It was a joke, a passing thing! I really wasn't going to do that, I swear on my brother's life!"

"What you were going to do is irrelevant," spoke the wereskag blankly. "What matters is what you did."

Masher finally reached Aurai, small trickles of tears in his eyes. "Aurai…you know I didn't mean that stuff right? I wasn't gonna…do…anything with you! You know I wasn't that kind of guy! Come on!"

Aurai glanced at her comrades, ignoring the man in front of her. She didn't even acknowledge his existence, staring right through him like he wasn't there. "I think we should get going. We should check that large tower over there for the Grave Knights."

The other Vault Hunters nodded and began walking away, leaving the giant in the streets.

"Wait, you can't just walk away!" yelled Masher pleadingly. He tightened his fists, closing his eyes as he did so. "Okay damn it! I'm sorry! I am really, really sorry! But please…just help me find Carnifex!"

He began to cry softly, the tears making streaks down his dirty face and staining his hair. "I can't live without him! It's like I'm missing my arm or leg! I treated him like shit but he stuck with me, and now I can't imagine my life without him! Please, you don't even have to work with me or talk to me! Just please get Carnifex back safely! I'm begging you! I'll do anything to see him back safely at my side! You can even kill me for my crimes if you want!"

He collapsed to his knees, his sentences turning into sobs. "Do you think I like being like this? This goddamn freak of nature who was raised by a coldhearted bitch to act the same exact way to everyone he met?! I hate being me! The only reason I don't blow my own brains out is because I have to take care of my little brother, who might have a chance of a normal life if I try hard enough! I don't care about myself anymore, all that matters is the two people I hold precious to me! And now…because of my stupidity…Carnifex is gone! Please, please get him back!"

He finally completely broke down, clutching a small medallion around his neck, a keepsake no doubt. His tears were far from graceful, snot and saliva mixing into them as they flowed down his face and stained his armor thoroughly.

He paused, noticing a shadow falling over him from above. He looked up, seeing a silhouette standing over him.

Aurai glanced down at him, extending a small hand towards him, as if to help him up, she was smiling softly, her face cast in the glow of the sun behind her.

"Masher…get up…" she said quietly. "Aren't you looking for Carnifex? You'll need to stop crying if that's the case."

The giant stared at her amazed, then grinned and grabbed her hand. He pulled himself up, standing far above her with ease. "Thank you so much Aurai! I can't even begin to say I'm sorry for…!"

She then punched him clean in the testicles, hitting through his armored cup and causing him to stop talking. He gasped loudly, all the wind being knocked out of his lungs. He leaned forward, his ear landing right next to her mouth.

"That's for everything, cunt-bag," snapped Aurai, her voice dripping with the psychotic side she had used during their fight. "You're lucky Dion or Alan wasn't here, or you'd already be a stain on the ground. Hell, you're lucky I'm in such a fine fucking mood, or I'd have jump-roped with your goddamn spine right about now. I'll help you find your bitch, but I just want you to remember something: you crawled and begged me for my help. You're _my_ bitch now, and I don't want you to forget that."

She backed up, flashing her standard cheery grin all over again. "Okay, let's go find Carnifex! Come on!"

She ran off excitedly, giggling to herself as she skipped merrily away.

Masher stood stunned for a good ten seconds, his eyes like saucers in his head. "What…the…fuck…?"

Wolfenstein glared at him, his expression still unfriendly. "I recommend your hurry up and show us where we should start. Aurai may be fine working with you, but you make my skin crawl looking at you. Get going."

* * *

Masher escorted the Vault Hunters down a side street of the city, his machine gun lying across his shoulders casually as he moved. They were far away from the busy crowds from earlier, now in a fairly abandoned sector of the city, similar to a ghetto.

"I set up shop with another acquaintance of mine who also has a kidnapped someone," explained the giant. "It's a rocky relationship, but necessary for both of us."

"If you are involved, I bet anything would be rocky," murmured Taika.

He snarled. "Go to Hell bitch, or go back to the kitchen. I already begged for your help, I ain't gonna kiss your ass anymore."

"Just show us the way," barked Wolfenstein.

The giant rolled his eyes and opened a door in one of the buildings, crouching down to step through the low doorway. He walked down the hallway of the building, moving past several sealed doors into various other rooms that looked empty.

"I found this place a week ago. It had no one in it, so I figured it'd be fine for me to use while I prepared for the next step in the journey. But…this is also where Carnifex was kidnapped…I was such a dumbass…"

He reached a door at the end of the hall, opening it and stepping through.

"Hey bitch, I got some allies!" roared Masher loudly into the room. "You'll like them, they're old friends of ours!"

Someone at the far end of the room was busying typing on a computer, her back to the door. She glanced back, exposing her tanned skin and flashing eyes.

"Ah, the Vault Hunters," murmured Elena Tear blankly, not at all concerned she was literally ten feet from what used to be here enemies. "Good, we found people with combat experience. I don't know what you had to do to convince them to help you Masher, though I suspect some fellatio was involved."

Masher grunted, scowling in anger. "Fuck you slut. Either way, ya, they agreed to help us. Better be dammed happy I got them too."

"Ah, excellent," said Baldemar stepping forward, his gentleman grin flashing on his face. "I was hoping we'd work with someone like you, someone with honor and grace."

"Flattery does not interest me, and neither do men like you," stated the Shark Maiden coldly, turning back to her computer to continue performing whatever she was doing. "I have far more important matters to attend to, such as the location of my dear Paige."

**[Richard McGuinness] "Ouch, strike one."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Ah please, Baldemar wouldn't hook up with another girl. Gaige would kill him."**

Wolfenstein sat next to her, gazing at the computer analytically. "Hacking into the network of the tower?"

Elena nodded. "Yes. I am searching for any log files they may have had about either Paige or Carnifex, though the only records they have seems to be the entries stored when we arrived in this city. No other records except of them, even when Paige purchased some groceries the other day with a credit card. If that is the case, a private organization may have captured them."

"Bull," snapped Masher, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a sealed plastic bag. It was a strip of flesh, caught on a nail and sealed for freshness. The skin looked decomposed, though it still held the normal color of a living person. "This thing was found on the window near Carnifex's room. It matches the kind of skin Tikari and Viitta had, meaning a Grave Knight or Servant or whatthefuckever kidnapped them."

"Tikari and Viitta are dead," stated Aurai blankly.

"I am aware," said Elena calmly, not at all bothered by the news. "In all honesty, their deaths do not alarm me. They may have been my colleagues, but I did not think of them as friends. Call me cold-hearted, but it is hard for me to care about a greedy miser and a psychotic serial killer given how little I interacted with them."

"Fair enough," murmured Taika dryly.

The Shark Maiden returned to the computer, her hands dancing across the keyboard. "If you all have any information on them, I recommend you tell me right now. I am beginning to grow exasperated in this hunt, and I become rather irritable when I am exasperated."

"That's an understatement," murmured Masher quietly. "You killed a pizza delivery boy last time you got 'irritable'."

"He attempted to flirt with me, even after reminding him of my current relationship," countered Elena. "Vault Hunters, do you possess any information?"

"Not sure this'll help, but we did notice something when we killed Gueule," spoke Baldemar. "There was another person with him, probably another Grave Servant. I don't know if that helps you at all, just something we noticed."

The Shark Maiden nodded, looking through the computer files she was currently on. "Yes…that does help. There is some mention of transferring people to someone marked as a Grave Servant, but it does not list a name or location. This computer is not advanced enough to access the restricted files."

"Teresa Pangolin has a computer that could do it," offered Taika. "Of course, you'd have to leave here to use it."

Elena stood, her face still blank. "Good, it's probably wise for us to leave this location. We are too close to the powder keg. Our enemies may notice that something is up and trace back to this computer."

She then smashed her fist into the computer, shattering it into pieces that exploded across the room from the force. She dusted off her hand and turned, walking towards the door like nothing had happened.

"Jesus F. Christ that woman is goddamn crazy," murmured Masher. "Well, whatever. So where is this Teresa's place?"

"It's a chapel in the ghetto," replied Wolfenstein. "I'll lead the way."

"Oh great, a chapel. I think I needed to talk to a pedophiliac priest anyway."

* * *

Swarna sat on a huge bed of cushions in her room, her head lying back casually. Her hands were twirling above her head, the glowing pentagrams in the gloves tracing lines through the air with every motion. She seemed absorbed into the activity, her eyes expertly watching each one and creating simplistic line patterns with every flick of her wrist. It was fairly astonishing to watch, as she did so with an aura of grace and ease that most artists would be fairly envious of.

"Hmm…if only I knew a way to make solid pieces in the air…" she murmured quietly. "That would be nice. I could keep them and stare at them for hours, perfect the technique…hmm…"

A short woman came up near her, wearing a maid's outfit. She was holding a tray with a pitcher and cup on it, the cup already full with liquid. The woman offered the tray to the Grave Servant. "Tea for ya ma'am."

"Ah, yes, thank you Paige," stated Swarna grabbing the tea cup, sipping it lightly. She smiled, the taste of green tea gathering on her tongue comfortably. "Very good Paige, you definitely know how to make tea."

"Thank ya ma'am."

Someone knocked at the door of her room, opening it slowly. It was a fairly tall handsome man, wearing only a dark red bathrobe over his body. He looked remarkably young for someone so tall, his physique thin but muscular, like an athlete.

"Ma'am, is it time for my session?" inquired the man quietly, his face one of curiosity and mild anxiety.

"Ah, yes, I nearly forgot," replied the Grave Servant sitting up. She grabbed a notebook and pencil, opening to an empty page as she did so. "Come on in Carnifex."

The man walked into the room and stood in the center, his head tucked low in slight embarrassment. He was tugging at the edges of the bathrobe, which didn't even go past mid-thigh on him or close completely in the front, exposing…well…a lot of things.

Swarna grinned, placing the pencil against the paper. "Okay Carnifex, now…take off the robe."

Carnifex paused, then shed the robe, exposing his naked body.

Paige stopped dead, her nose trickling with blood. She hurriedly looked away, a huge red blush on her face. "…wow…"

"Yeah, I know," murmured the Grave Servant. "I agree completely. Now stand right there Carnifex. This won't take long."

She began etching his body into the paper, her pencil like lightning across the surface. She expertly carved every detail of him as if she had done it a thousand times, getting a nearly-perfect photo-copy of him. She smirked as she drew the more private locations, clearly enjoying the sheer detail she could put into the area.

"You really are an impressive specimen Carnifex," she commented midway through the drawing. "Like a Greek god…I see why Masher chose you as a partner."

"…thank you…" murmured Carnifex quietly, who was currently too embarrassed to say more than a few words at a time.

Swarna had taken the both of them only a few days ago, finding them to be more than suitable subjects for a good drawing or two. She did this activity a lot; kidnapping people, drawing them, then sending them back home. It was a mild obsession at this point, as she would do this to a person she found even remotely interesting at this point. She didn't even have to force people into her custody, using her Grave Servant powers to draw them in of their own will.

As her power was 'to draw', she could create any object by sketching it down on any surface as long as she was concentrating on it. Of course, this power also extended into abstract concepts, like drawing emotions such as loyalty or devotion, which was exactly how these two got bound to her service. She made them believe they were loyal to her for some favor they had long forgotten, and due to this instinct they did anything she asked. It was a bit cruel, but she didn't want them to do anything too unpleasant. All she wanted to do was document and draw them. After that, she really didn't have anything else for them to do that came to mind. Though both of them were extremely attractive…

"Perhaps a visit to the playhouse is in order," she murmured biting her thumbnail, chewing on the surface liberally. "Hmm…maybe later."

She put the pencil down, examining the drawing she had just made. It was a near perfect black and white copy of Carnifex's nude body, posed similar to a Greek or Roman statue. It was pretty good, mostly due to the subject material's attractiveness, and she was definitely keeping it.

"Very good Carnifex, you're done," she said tearing the page out, placing it on a small table nearby. She grinned and looked at Paige. "You're next."


	30. Chapter 30: Titan Training Part 2

Lilith sat at her captain's chair blankly, staring at the quiet woman before her. The Grand Archbishop was casually sipping some tea in the guest chair, her face remarkably calm. She had just finished telling the story of what had happened to her subordinates and the current situation with their newest acquaintances, as she had seen and witnessed nearly all of it herself.

"You blew his legs off?" questioned the Siren raising an eyebrow.

"I did order him to crawl," she countered serenely. "May I have another cup of tea?"

"Uh…sure…so now we're working with two of the guys from the Carnival of Carnage. What a mind-job this turned out to be."

"It is interesting," admitted Teresa glancing at her cup of tea as if it held some age-old wisdom. "Even more interesting for me, as they are inside my chapel on Sheol right now."

"Why do you even have a chapel there?" asked Lilith. "I thought Arlon hated anyone except himself on his planet."

"I managed to convince him," said the Grand Archbishop mysteriously, offering a motherly smile. "He was very open to persuasion with a few calm words. Also, I supply his little army with guns and resources. I sell a lot lower than most people."

"Heh, a smuggling ring in a church. That sounds…immoral," muttered the Siren with a smirk.

"My dear, immorality means nothing to me or my church," replied Teresa calmly. "We can only be judged by God, and we have already asked for forgiveness for our sins. Sometimes it is necessary to be evil in this world, and other times it is necessary to be good. That is just the way the world is."

Lilith shrugged. "I guess. So have you all uncovered anything yet?"

"We are getting close. These Grave Servants are good at hiding. It's like they don't even touch a computer wherever they are. But I am certain we will find them, one way or another. My main concern is the Grave Knights. Two of them so close to another…they must be exceptionally powerful in a fight with their abilities combined."

"All the more reason to have some of these Carnival guys on our side. Hell, if we had Jackal Cash, we probably could take on Cassius just with him by our side."

"I have no doubts, but it is unlikely he is on this planet."

"Yeah, just a wild hope to be honest. Eh, whatever. Good luck Teresa."

"And you too my dear. I hope this conflict ends as quickly as it began, for all of our sakes."

* * *

Dion sprinted across the room and rolled to the side, narrowly missing a large spike from impaling him. He panted and kept running, sweat pouring from his face and hair.

Edward the Kidd grinned widely as he chased after him, his right side looking like it was made of metal spikes. He didn't even look that tired, his pompadour perfectly in place with not a drop of sweat on his face.

"Come on maggot!" roared the Metal Titan. "Hit me! Hit me!"

The Plasma Titan leaped backwards and raised his right palm, the hand glowing bright green. He fired a single beam forward, narrowly clipping his target's ear.

"You suck at this!" snapped Edward. "Come on, you know how to dodge, but you can't hit worth a damn! With your ranged power, you have to learn to hit something!"

"Give me a break!" yelled Dion aggravated. "I'm running for my life and I'm exhausted! Stop expecting so much out of me! What are you, stupid?!"

The Metal Titan paused, his face going completely blank. He stared at him with dead eyes, his voice suddenly going quiet.

"What did you call me?" inquired Edward slowly.

The Plasma Titan stopped, realizing he was probably now up Shit Creek with no paddle.

The Metal Titan roared in anger and extended his right arm, the limb growing to the size of a school bus. He grabbed Dion and slammed him into the floor, denting the plastic surface in the process. He repeated the process, his eyes fiery with anger.

"NO ONE CALLS ME STUPID! NOBODY! NOBODY! NOBODY!"

Each word was accented by a slam of the Plasma Titan into the ground, shattering ribs and bruising flesh. He was about to slam him once more, when a sword was placed perfectly on his neck.

His first mate stood to the side, his hood drawn back to expose a large metal mask that looked like a torture device on his head. The man's hands were heavily scarred, gripping the huge weathered sword loosely. His eyes were blank and cold, glaring at his captain. "I think that's enough sir."

Edward grunted, turning his arm back into normal rapidly. "Fine."

Dion smirked, even though he had blood pouring from his mouth due to internal injuries. He was healing rapidly, as any Titan would, and he didn't need to worry about being down for very long. "I thought you said…don't rush into fights…"

"I did," retorted the Metal Titan. "I knew I would win at a fist-fight with you, so I did. You see, you don't rush into fights you don't know you can win. I only rush into fights I know I can win. The only thing you can do is dodge and miss your beams at a critical moment."

He paused, stroking his chin. "Hmm…I wonder…how badly do you miss under stress?"

He glanced to the side, noticing Aurai off to the side, still watching what was going on. He grinned, his brain filling with a devilish idea.

Edward raised his hand, his palm aimed right at her. "Come over here."

The Siren yelped as she was dragged off her feet and flew towards the Metal Titan, as if dragged by a magnet. She was then grappled by him into a neck-lock, before a blade was pushed into her neck.

"Aurai!" roared Dion trying to get up, but to no avail. He was still far too injured to get back and fight.

Edward chuckled, holding Aurai in a hostage position with a finger blade against her windpipe. "Correct. Now you have two options. The first is to shoot me in the head with one of your beams. The second is to watch your beautiful girlfriend here bleed and stain this floor red. Make your choice, you have ten seconds. Ten…"

"Fuck," spat the Plasma Titan aiming with his hand, his arm shaking nervously. He fired, the beam missing by over a foot. Way too far.

"Nine…eight…seven…you're losing time…"

"Goddamn it motherfucker…" murmured Dion. He fired two more shots, both of them missing. He wanted to hit Edward, but he also didn't want to hit Aurai. And the only open part of Edward he could hit was his head, everything else was covered by Aurai's body.

"Six…five…four…you're really terrible at this…"

"Shut up!" snapped the Plasma Titan concentrating, time seemingly slowing down as his brain went into hyperdrive mode. He processed everything; the sweat on his arm, the jittering of his muscles, the small sway Edward had in his step. It was as if he had turned into a computer, the adrenaline speeding up his perception to inhuman levels. He fired another shot, this one skidding right past Edward's head.

"Three…two…one…ah, too bad. She's going to die."

"No!" exclaimed Dion panicking, his eyes moving even faster than before. He fired one shot.

Edward paused, his forehead smoking from the plasma beam that had just hit him. He grinned, releasing the Siren as he did so. "Nice work maggot. That was a good shot."

The Plasma Titan ran over and grabbed Aurai, examining her for injuries. "Are you alright? I didn't hit you did I?"

The Siren giggled, bemused by his worry. "HBCM, I'm really sorry! Edward had that planned out to do, to see if you really could hit him!"

Dion paused. "Really?"

Edward smirked, wiping the soot from his face. "Hell yeah. I needed to make sure you could hit _something_ maggot, and you can. I would've killed her though. She respawns, so no big deal. She was fine with that idea too."

"But I knew you could do it Dion!" yelled Aurai hugging him tightly. "You did awesome!"

Dion chuckled, rubbing the top of her head. "Yeah…thanks…"

**[Richard McGuinness] "How can Edward beat Dion? Isn't Plasma like way hotter than Metal can withstand?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well Edward has more than just making his body into metal. He also has magnetism, as he just showed. Also, who says he can't control the molten metal?"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "…wow, didn't think of that. Edward really is OP."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yeah, kinda why we couldn't make him a playable character in the first place."**

* * *

Alan Fitzgerald and Ningyo Torikku lay in wait in the shadows, both of them holding a bucket full to the brim with items. The priest had his bucket full of honey, while the trickster had his full of feathers. If you can't figure out what they were going to do with those items, you need to watch more prank shows.

"Dude, this is genius!" complimented Alan grinning.

"I know, I made the plan," stated Ningyo with a smirk. "Now we just gotta wait for someone to come by, then we bush them."

"Speaking of bush…you prefer a muff or a landing strip?"

"On me or the girl?"

They both laughed loudly, already fully bonded like brothers.

The priest stopped, still chuckling lowly. "Ah…I think we became best friends."

"Yep."

"So did you meet Mortem on Sheol?"

"Ah, no actually. Why do you ask?"

"Well…"

The priest paused, scratching his nose nervously. "Me and Mortem had a thing once. We…uh…fucked a lot."

"I figured; that is the definition of a thing you know," spoke Ningyo raising an eyebrow. "But isn't Mortem like twelve in physical terms?"

"Don't judge me!" roared Alan aggravated, as if he had to do this often. "She was into the BDSM shit as a submissive masochist, and…well…I'm a bit of a dominant sadist. It was like a match made in Heaven."

"Sounds like it. Why did it stop?"

"Well…truth be told…Mortem is fucking crazy. Like, seriously. She fucked, literally, every hour, when I was with her. I am not exaggerating that. It got so bad my dick began to ache. You ever had your dick ache?"

"For different reasons, but definitely not from overuse."

"Well I did! Holy shit, it was painful! Seriously, I'd never ask for that kind of relationship again, no matter how mind-blowing that sex was!"

They both paused when they heard someone coming, ducking back into their corners in anticipation. If they had thought for a moment, they'd realize those footsteps were rather heavy compared to most of the other crew members and maybe it wasn't such a good idea to implement their prank on this person. Of course, thinking wasn't exactly a hobby for either of them, so they went with it.

"Surprise asshole!" snapped Alan throwing out the bucket of honey, hitting the person dead center.

"Gotcha!" yelled Ningyo throwing his bucket of feathers, the white articles hitting the honey and sticking tight.

They both paused, realizing just how screwed they were at that moment.

Wolfenstein spat out a small bit of feathers from his mouth, his entire upper torso similar to a chicken. His face was dead serious, though his words were barely suppressing his rage. "I hope you both have been to a confessional recently and talked to God, for you are about to meet him personally."

"It was nice knowing you man," stated Alan quietly, his brain still processing his imminent demise.

"Yeah, I'm a pretty interesting guy," murmured Ningyo.

* * *

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Alright guys, we're announcing something this time!"**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Oh great. What do we have to say now?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Well our author wants to apologize for not writing as often as he used to. He says that it has something to do with his original novel that he's writing, which is coming together quite well apparently."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Is that it?"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yep."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Hmm, short message."**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Yep."**

**[Richard McGuinness] "Well, later assholes!"**

**[Scotty "Roundhouse" Dale] "Tatty bye!"**


End file.
